

^ A . , 

-y o' 


« •> ' » * 



*i^ C 0> fc 

** *fe v^ i ^ 


^0 

^ *"'*’ A ‘o ^rr.’'^ \‘^"*\^ .. °° % 

°- ^ V" **!pL'* A\ a<T A*®' V * LyW* ->> . 

^ ^ *V8fe£\ ^ ^ ^ ^ /*»* ^ ^ 




■^rt A * 

* ^ ^ ; 

^ <L^ ^ °!v|^/ V ^ • 

/*’ <? *o, "o.*'* a <, */rr** <g v 'o 



ON 0 


• aV-* 

* / 



*- *0 / 

>° ?>° V 

♦ o < 

o. +oVo° A 0 *$x *•'#■« 




"> aV'A* 

•k /J. V v\ 
si A ■<* * 

* * A <.*''•• s " <U' q. 

A o° N 0 * *<S> . (A „ t I 0 ^ ^ 

y P f*V *^/>'?2-> ■» 



•<• -.* A>^ •:■•• ^ 

^ c / -^- , - * 
vP <p 



° W ; 

• & 'V « 0 

'h 4 y & ^ ^ - 

* c>^ *® * * * A 

o * A c ° N ® ,» *<£,. 


* A V *> -* 

* ^ % ’ 




<* ' • • * * < G ' 

<i> ~V . n« A 



A°* . 



> jP ^ 

^ °°^ ^ ^ '°*p.~* o^o 0 

V .* 1 ^ 4 . AT • * ••- ^ V .’wjA* ° 


*.,* V o* 


A ^ o 

,* <^ s ^ °. 
/s * 0^ ^ 

^ II B ^ 




* ^ 5 " ° 



: ^ v 


* A V ^ 


c 0 " ® » <{> . , t I * 4 ^Q . o 0 N ° ♦ 

, J* /rfgsw, 0 U ♦Wfe,’. ° / 

<-4- *^. 0 < •*-<* . 


•1 *. 




o V 



^ 1 


. w .. VN _ ," 4° •%. . 

,v °+ "°^° 9 A 0 ^ * 

V s * VL'+ ^o v fi * * °* 

* .Vdfc*'. % / ,>,W ^ > 






- ^ a ^<-y ' 


A o. 

L > vv> •« 


% • • ■* “ 

*•'.>. ,vV> 



O' <* ,G V 

■ 0 0 " 0 ♦ ■^x fO . 1 ' » . 

• ^S^cv / T { VJ t /V>7r> ^ 




° .A * 

O V* A e 




* A S ^ ° c 

a v • 


O ^ \\Vs 5 ° • *1 — j *■ 

*•'** 0 ^° ..... % *"’* A 

' V,/ 4I& ^ 


^ rr . C * 

iA *fi A < 

. ^ <y 

• < o. 

> <Xr ^ * 

A K? ^ * 

* cv ^ 

A> O ^ o 

V 0 w 0 




* 4> 


0 ^ . • 1 ' * -» ^o aG^ 0 o» o „ 

G *^/r??7^ ° • 



% V A ( 

.* 



A ^ 

r * » • o- %> 


* A V ^b : 

• ^ % • 



..s' .0 



^ +*?W* % * <A> o_ ^ 

^ ® < ■> .«,* 


- V/ * 

• V> ^ o 

* 0 ? 0 > O 

^ -^y 


o, 'O.,* a 





UV # ^ • 




A *<TV»* .O'" 

* c 0 " 0 *. (V . a'», ' 



* 

</> 

o 0 

%. '*• «'«’ aO -.,,• 

* - <* <y » » * »- *> 


*■;• **„ a*' /. 


* o 

* ^ 4^ o 

KV ^ mxvx ^ Ovt: 

^ fw *" ^^\\VVV ^ 

% <ay cv * r\ — > * 

* % * 0 H ° ° aO * * # 1 * 

O . •iZL'* %, ,0^ . « • •, % 0 

° A 

* js y ^ , v v < 

t v ./'.t*i'*.\ *** .o^\ »» ’"* 


A v.* : 

* .0 „, <*. A> 

^ *°JWv *<-> ^ cCr .•-V’* O 

O’ O <1 .4* -$L* * 



*° ^ * 

0 ^ ><f V 

* **A 

/ #*\u °* 

A *V ^ 



^ * 

r ^ ^ 

A^ C ° " ° * ^ 

* 4 <v A_^ * 

o K .° 


“•KUS^"’ *°' 7 ^ 

0 ^ ° W ° A 0 ^ * ' 1 

aO *<*<>- *> 

• ^ 4Va- s 

- **#* i9mm\ W 

** a^ v- \ -. 

■* 9> X M» - 

* A *, _ 

A’' c 0 " 0 ♦ <?> * * • 1 1 * 4 *P~ A" e, 0 " ° 4 

<p *%5^t*r« v, ,c° *'*M*:. o w* • 


* * * v <G V » *■ * A <~ . 

,6^ V *•*•» *i 

-. ^ A c x*>^.’. A ?*<^jC' 

v!a o.v _ ficMZZr /& * Vq y> 0 an^ss^ML^ «* 


j- 0 ^ ’. 




,s % >. • 


\ v 7 % a. 

~ 0 HO - *y ♦ 0 , •» • ^ 4 

K ^ f »**°-. <> V' 

A 

yA 


* v * 



"°»*'* xO' ^ ♦/tvT 4 .(j* \d 

— <^>. ^ t * * * *t 

* ^ xO X* ' 

* — _. A 1 * % ’T’x. . 0 * 


^ * 

"^* * " 1 * \ v .. •/* 

' > - v % X , 

• ^ ,& * 

: vi>v 



•^o« 


• H *. 



5 ^ ; 


JL * 4^> O 

r> ^ * 



V v**V v-v- ( 

C)> l 1 * Oj, /> * • • ^ 

°, • 

^ : v>^ *W§fW* A v *x. 

* o v ^ cL\K * A V V\ 

^ <L V ci> • 4 V 




4 ^ A 


aO' *0 4 ~y* A ^ r V ^ 

f o^ 1 •'^4,% V .-{^ .°!^x“v ^ ,0^ t • VL** .»■* 

^ k ° «^lar - <N 



A° 

“ *> - ^ 5* 

* ^0/ ^ 


• A^*\ -» 

* ^ ^ • 






0 j,y vv vv 

O ' A ‘A ** * 

° 4 . * - A° V **M« . 

*, % jy > v s 

* '^r' & ' 

: J'v 


a v -^ - 
•/ # ^ • 
















































































. 




































' 













































































































































A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 































. 














■ 

. < 





















' 


































































lEtntiou tic ©rant) iLuie 


A 

Legend of Montrose 

By SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 


IntroBuctorg lEssag aitU Notes 

By ANDREW LANG 

\ 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 

ESTES AND LAURIAT 
1893 

— K- 




r ' 













/ 


ez3. 

,S*SL 

( 4 - 


EDITION DE GRAND LUXE. 
Limited to Five Hundred Copies. 

Wo. 


Copyright, 1893, 

By Estes and Lauriat 


TYPOGRAPHY, ELECTROTYPING, AND 
PRINTING BY JOHN WILSON AND SON 
UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

THIRD SERIES. 


Hear, Land o’ Cakes and brither Scots, 

Frae Maidenkirk to Jonny Groats’, 

If there’s a hole in a’ your coats, 

I rede ye tent it ; 

A chiel’s amang you takin’ notes, 

An’ faith he’ll prent it ! 

Burns. 




Ahora bien, dixo il Cura, traedme , senor huesped , aquesos libros, 
que los quiero ver. Que me place, respondio el; y entrando, en su 
aposento, sac.6 del una maletilla vieja cerrada con una cadenilla, y 
abriendola , halld en ella tres libros grandes y unos papeles de muy 
buena letra escritos de inano. — Don Quixote, Parte I. Capitulo 32. 

It is mighty well, said the priest ; pray, landlord, bring me those 
books, for I have a mind to see them. With all my heart, answered 
the host ; and, going to his chamber, he brought out a little old 
cloke-bag, with a padlock and chain to it, and, opening it, he took 
out three large volumes, and some manuscript papers written in a 
fine character. — Jarvis’s Translation. 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION 


TO 

A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 

“A Legend of Montrose” appeared in company 
with “ The Bride of Lammermoor, ” and was written 
under the same influences of severe illness and acute 
bodily pain. It is needless to anticipate what will he 
said on this topic, in the Introduction to the longer 
novel. A patient who could find escape for his soul 
into the free air of the northern hills, was able, despite 
sufferings which would have quelled any other spirit, 
to create Scott’s most humorous character, Dugald 
Dalgetty. Never was a more signal triumph of mind 
over body: never a more convincing disproof of the 
strange theory that Scott’s genius was subdued by the 
tribulations of the flesh. Montrose was a character 
necessarily attractive to Scott. His greatness may not 
he so conspicuous to us now as it was to his contempo- 
raries on the Continent, who recognised in him a 
parallel to Plutarch’s men. But the romance of his 
character and genius was always evident, and to Scott 
especially delightful. Among the spoils of Montrose, 
after the fatal day of Philiphaugh, were found three 
small silver lockets. “They are heart-shaped. On 
one side is carved a long straight sword, and below it 
a winged heart, and on the other a heart pierced 
through with darts, and the motto : 4 I live and die for 
loyalty eS The inside of the lid bears the words: ( I 
mourn for Monarchies The portrait on the outside 


X 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION TO 


is said by Miss Russell of Ashiestiel to be that of 
Charles II., as Prince of Wales. ” 1 U I live and die 
for loyalty e.” That was the sentiment which burned 
always in the heart of Montrose — that heart which, 
even after his death, was present in battle, and was 
long cherished by a martial and gallant Rajah. 2 
Loyalty was also the passion of Scott ; he was true, in 
our age of change, to that ancient and lost ideal. 
Among his u gabions ” at Abbotsford perhaps the most 
precious of all was the sword of Montrose, given to him 
by Charles I., and purchased b}*- Scott from Grahame of 
Gartmore. Shards of the blade of another sword were 
wrought into the steel case, within which was a golden 
casket, the reliquaire of Montrose’s heart, while it 
remained in the possession of the House of Napier. 8 
In 1822 the Duke of Montrose at Dalkeith Palace 
spoke jestingly of sending some gallant Grahams to 
Abbotsford to recover the sword of his ancestor. 
Scott replied meaningly that he would be ready, and 
that he “ lived near Philiphaugh,” where 

The Scots out ower the Grahams they ran, 

as the ballad of the battle declares. 

In strong sympathy with Montrose as he was, Scott 
did not make him the central figure, nor his action in 
raising the Highlands to fight for the Crown the es- 
sential interest of his legend. He worked on a subject 
more minute and on a smaller canvas. The fate of 
Lord Kilport, and the strange history of James Stuart 
of Ardvoirlich, these were his themes ; nor, as he con- 

1 Craig Brown, “History of Selkirkshire,” i. 197. 

2 See, for the fortunes of the Heart of Montrose, Mr. Mark 
Napier’s interesting account in his “ Memorials of Montrose.” 

3 The Heart was lost in the French Revolution. The lace cap 
which Montrose wore at his execution is now in the hands of 
Lord Napier and Ettrick, at Thirlestane. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


xi 


fessed, could he resist the temptation to follow “that 
wandering knight so fair,” Dalgetty, over hill and cor- 
rie, in prison and in camp and field. 

We may almost regret that Scott did not attempt a 
romance of a far wider scope and more largely tragical 
issue — the story of the fortunes of Montrose himself. 
The “psychological” as well as the adventurous inter- 
est of the topic are both curious and noble. Montrose’s 
early energies in the cause of the Covenant; the reasons 
for his adopting that party, loyal as he was ; his sudden 
change of sides, or conversion ; his dramatic interview 
with the King at Berwick, probably the turning-point 
of his career; his wading, sword in hand, the first man 
through Tweed; his doubling back across the Border, 
with Rollo and Sibbald, disguised as a groom, to raise 
the Highlands for the lost Cause; his sweeping series of 
victories; the mysterious disaster of Philiphaugh; the 
season spent abroad; the unfurling afresh of the royal 
standard, a bleeding head on a black ground; the last 
rout by the Hill of Mourning; the flight, the death: 
here was a romance made for Sir Walter’s hand. But 
he did not adventure himself on it, and in the “Legend ” 
Montrose is a central but a subordinate figure. The 
eclaircissement, when the supposed servant, Anderson, 
stands revealed as James Graham, Earl of Montrose, 
and the interview with Sir Duncan Campbell are 
almost the only passages where the great Marquis has a 
part appropriate to his dignity. In truth he, and even 
Alan Macaulay, are “played down” by the victorious, 
the irresistible Dugald Dalgetty. That warrior may 
have been meant for a mere caricature of the contem- 
porary military bore : some people speak of him as 
“ one of Scott’s bores.” Jeffrey averred that we have 
rather too much of him : as if we ever could have enough 
of the master of Gustavus! He simply runs away 
with Sir Walter, and his adventures, his splendid scene 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION TO 


xii 

with Argyll in the dungeon of Inveraray, become, willy 
nilly, the central interest. He is to “A Legend of 
Montrose 99 what Falstaff is to “ Henry IV. ” “ I 

think there is a demon who seats himself on the 
feather of my pen, when I begin to write, and leads it 
away from the purpose,” says Scott, in his Introductory 
epistle to “The Fortunes of Nigel.” “When I light 
on such a character as Bailie Jarvie, or Dalgetty, my 
imagination brightens, and my conception becomes 
clearer at every step which I take in his company, 
although it leads me many a mile away from the regu- 
lar road, and forces me to leap hedges and ditches to get 
back into the route again. If I resist the temptation 
as you advise me, my thoughts become prosy, flat, and 
dull ; I write painfully to myself, and under a conscious- 
ness of flagging which makes me flag still more; the 
sunshine with which fancy had invested the incidents 
departs from them, and leaves everything dull and 
gloomy. ... In short, sir, on such occasions I think 
I am bewitched.” 

Scott is invariably his own best critic, and no one 
can describe more perfectly the spontaneous and inevit- 
able character of his genius. There is a lutin that 
haunts him, as was said of Corneille, his characters be- 
come his masters, leading him whither he would not, 
but where we are only too glad to follow. His design 
was to dwell on the Fate which pursues the second- 
sighted man, driving him to the deed he holds most in 
horror, showing him, darkly, his own misfortune, 

Seeing all his own mischance, 

With a glassy countenance, 

holding mysterious converse on futurity with his 
deadly foe, and his brother in strange lore of prophecy. 
These scenes are powerful and poetical, but even their 
power and poetry is enhanced by contrast with our 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


xiii 


brave, much enduring, much prosing knight, Sir Du- 
gald. He is so full of life himself that he bestows 
it on the figures of history, and Gillespie Grumach, 
“gleyed Argyll,” with all his wisdom, his caution, 
his intrigues, is better remembered for what never 
befell — his meeting with Dalgetty in the dungeon — 
than for his politics. Lady Charlotte Bury, it seems, 
did not easily forgive Scott for his attack on her cele- 
brated ancestor. He might have made amends to the 
Clan Campbell by writing his Life of John Duke of 
Argyll, Jeanie Deans’s Duke, but this, unluckily, he 
did not live to accomplish. “By the way, I should 
have remembered that I called on my old friend, Lady 
Charlotte Campbell, and found her in her usual good 
humour, though miffed a little, I suspect at the history 
of Gillespie Grumach, in the ‘ Legend of Montrose.’ ” 1 
The lady’s resentment, then, had endured; in ten 
long years the sun had not quite gone down on her 
wrath. 

For the rest, Scott has hardly surpassed his pictures 
of old Highland life in the legend, and the sketches 
of brave, peppery, jealous, proud, and irreconcilable 
Celts, ever ready to draw sword on their own partisans 
for a question of pedigree and precedence. These were 
the qualities that ruined Montrose’s gallant enterprise: 
a Highland army would not, could not hold together. 
Dundee would have made shipwreck on the same reef, 
had the fatal bullet never been fired in Killiecrankie 
Pass. True to their passions to the last, the Macdon- 
alds would not charge, when placed on the left wing at 
Culloden. Their private piques and punctilio, for that 
last time of all, overthrew the cause of the Stuarts. 

“ ‘ If Vich Alister More desires to he held representa- 
tive of the Lords of the Isles, let him first show blood 
that is redder than mine ! ’ ” 

1 Journal, April 16, 1829. See also May 22, 1829. 


XIV 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION TO 


“ ‘That is soon tried/ said Yich Alister More, lay- 
ing his hand on the basket hilt of his claymore.” 

That was ever “the humour of it ” in the Highlands, 
among the last hopes of Stuart Royalty. While the 
political character of the old Highlander is thus indi- 
cated, his gloomy superstitions are drawn with the un- 
erring hand which designed the prophet in “ The Lady 
of the Lake.” The phenomena of the second sight, 
which interested Johnson and Samuel Pepys so much, 
are sympathetically handled. The last testament and 
advice of old Ranald to the child of his race is full of a 
magnificent and defiant poetry. 

The minor characters, including the official hero 
and heroine, scarcely interest their author. Annot 
Lyle is a graceful and musical figure, merely sketched 
in, and slightly tinted. One of her songs, “ Gaze not 
upon the stars, fond sage,” though marked, according 
to its author, with the quaint hyperbolical taste of 
King Charles’s time, is really a gem, and in its happy 
and delicate brevity reminds one of a piece ‘from some 
later poet of the Greek Anthology, an Asclepiades, or 
Paulus Silentiarius. In brief, though “A Legend of 
Montrose ” is but a cabinet picture, as it were, it bears 
all the marks of Scott’s hand, at once so strong and so 
fine,. in its humour, its tragedy, and its superstitious 
terror. 

Contemporary criticism said just the obvious things 
on which we have already remarked. “Blackwood’s 
Magazine ” regretted that the tale was not longer, and 
that Montrose was not the hero. Dalgetty was recog- 
nised as “among the best comic inventions of the 
author.” As to the “Edinburgh Review” Scott him- 
self quotes Jeffrey’s praises in his Introduction. The 
“ Quarterly ” maintained that “there is a great deal too 
much of him,” of the Rittmeister, “as is always the 
case.” Alan Macaulay and Ranald MacEagh were 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


xv 


thought more suitable characters for poetry than for 
prose. The “ Scots Magazine ” avowed that Dugald 
“never for a moment derogates from his character by 
saying or doing anything that could properly be said or 
done by any other man.” Dugald, however, really has 
had, in our day, a spiritual child and likeness. It is 
rarely wise to compare a modern with Scott, hut in Mr. 
Conan Doyle’s soldier of fortune in “Micah Clarke ” we 
may recognise a not unvrorthy successor of the great 
Rittmeister. The “ Scots Magazine ” criticised Sir 
Walter’s Gaelic, which is far from correct. “ Deoch h 
dorrir is literally ‘a drink at the door; ’ in his mode of 
spelling it is ‘a drink in the dark.’ ” “Do Highland- 
ers in general,” asked the Celtic critic, “show that 
brutal eagerness in stripping off the clothes of the 
dying,” as at Inverlochy? We may reply that, after 
the Prince’s victory at Falkirk, in 1745, the field, ac- 
cording to an eye-witness, looked like a hill covered 
with sheep, the stripped corpses lay so thick and white 
upon the ground. This example from a later and more 
civilised age might have sufficed to prove Sir Walter’s 
essential accuracy. 


Andrew Lang. 































. 

. 





























INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST EDITION. 


Sergeant More M'Alpin was, during his residence 
among us, one of the most honoured inhabitants of 
Gandercleugh. No one thought of disputing his title 
to the great leathern chair on the “ cosiest side of the 
chimney,” in the common room of the Wallace Arms, 
on a Saturday evening. No less would our sexton, 
John Duirward, have held it an unlicensed intrusion, 
to suffer any one to induct himself into the corner of 
the left-hand pew nearest to the pulpit, which the Ser- 
geant regularly occupied on Sundays. There he sat, 
his blue invalid uniform brushed with the most scrupu- 
lous accuracy. Two medals of merit displayed at his 
button-hole, as well as the empty sleeve which should 
have been occupied by his right arm, bore evidence of 
his hard and honourable service. His weather-beaten 
features, his grey hair tied in a thin queue in the mili- 
tary fashion of former days, and the right side of his 
head a little turned up, the better to catch the sound 
of the clergyman’s voice, were all marks of his pro- 
fession and infirmities. Beside him sat his sister 
Janet, a little neat old woman, with a Highland curch 
and tartan plaid, watching the very looks of her 
brother, to her the greatest man upon earth, and act- 
ively looking out for him, in his silver-clasped Bible, 
the texts which the minister quoted or expounded. 

I believe it was the respect that was universally 
paid to this worthy veteran by all ranks in Gander- 
cleugh which induced him to choose our village for 
b 


xviii INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST EDITION OF 


his residence, for such was by no means his original 
intention. 

He had risen to the rank of sergeant-major of artil- 
lery, by hard service in various quarters of the world, 
and was reckoned one of the most tried and trusty 
men of the Scotch Train. A hall, which shattered 
his arm in a peninsular campaign, at length procured 
him an honourable discharge, with an allowance from 
Chelsea, and a handsome gratuity from the patriotic 
fund. Moreover, Sergeant More M‘Alpin had been 
prudent as well as valiant; and, from prize-money and 
savings, had become master of a small sum in the three 
per cent consols. 

He retired with the purpose of enjoying this income 
in the wild Highland glen, in which, when a boy, he 
had herded black cattle and goats, ere the roll of the 
drum had made him cock his bonnet an inch higher, 
and follow its music for nearly forty years. To his 
recollection, this retired spot w T as unparalleled in 
beauty by the richest scenes he had visited in his wan- 
derings. Even the Happy Valley of Rasselas would 
have sunk into nothing upon the comparison. He 
came — he revisited the loved scene; it was but a 
sterile glen, surrounded with rude crags, and traversed 
by a northern torrent. This was not the worst. The 
fires had been quenched upon thirty hearths — of the 
cottage of his fathers he could but distinguish a few 
rude stones — the language was almost extinguished — 
the ancient race from which he boasted his descent had 
found a refuge beyond the Atlantic. One southland 
farmer, three grey-plaided shepherds, and six dogs, 
now tenanted the whole glen, which in his youth had 
maintained, in content, if not in competence, upwards 
of two hundred inhabitants. 

In the house of the new tenant, Sergeant M‘Alpin 
found, however, an unexpected source of pleasure, and 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


XIX 


a means of employing his social affections. His sister 
Janet had fortunately entertained so strong a persua- 
sion that her brother would one day return, that she 
had refused to accompany her kinsfolk upon their emi- 
gration. Nay, she had consented, though not without 
a feeling of degradation, to take service with the in- 
truding Lowlander, who, though a Saxon, she said, had 
proved a kind man to her. This unexpected meeting 
with his sister seemed a cure for all the disappoint- 
ments which it had been Sergeant More’s lot to en- 
counter, although it was not without a reluctant tear 
that he heard told, as a Highland woman alone could 
tell it, the story of the expatriation of his kinsmen. 

She narrated at great length the vain offers they had 
made of advanced rent, the payment of which must 
have reduced them to the extremity of poverty, which 
they were yet contented to face, for permission to live 
and die on their native soil. Nor did Janet forget the 
portents which had announced the departure of the 
Celtic race, and the arrival of the strangers. For two 
years previous to the emigration, when the night wind 
howled down the pass of Balachra, its notes were dis- 
tinctly modelled to the tune of, “ Ha til mi tulidh,” 
(we return no more,) with which the emigrants usually 
bid farewell to their native shores. The uncouth cries 
of the Southland shepherds, and the barking of their 
dogs, were often heard in the mist of the hills long 
before their actual arrival. A bard, the last of his 
race, had commemorated the expulsion of the natives 
of the glen in a tune, which brought tears into the 
aged eyes of the veteran, and of which the first stanza 
may be thus rendered : — 

/ 

Woe, woe, son of the Lowlander, 

Why wilt thou leave thine own bonny Border 1 
Why comes thou hither, disturbing the Highlander, 
Wasting the glen that was once in fair order 2 


XX INTRODUCTION TO THE EIRST EDITION OE 


What added to Sergeant More M‘Alpin’s distress 
upon the occasion was, that the chief hy whom this 
change had been effected, w r as, hy tradition and com- 
mon opinion, held to represent the ancient leaders and 
fathers of the expelled fugitives ; and it had hitherto 
been one of Sergeant More’s principal subjects of pride 
to prove, hy genealogical deduction, in what degree of 
kindred he stood to this personage. A woful change 
was now wrought in his sentiments towards him. 

“I cannot curse him,” he said, as he rose and strode 
through the room, when Janet’s narrative was finished 
— “I will not curse him; he is the descendant and 
representative of my fathers. But never shall mortal 
man hear me name his name again.” And he kept his 
word; for, until his dying day, no man heard him 
mention his selfish and hard-hearted chieftain. 

After giving a day to sad recollections, the hardy 
spirit which had carried him through so many dangers, 
manned the Sergeant’s bosom against this cruel dis- 
appointment. u He would go,” he said, “to Canada to 
his kinsfolk, where they had named a Transatlantic 
valley after the glen of their fathers. Janet,” he 
said, “ should kilt her coats like a leaguer lady; d — n 
the distance! it was a flea’s leap to the voyages and 
marches he had made on a slighter occasion.” 

With this purpose he left the Highlands, and came 
with his sister as far as Gandercleugh, on his waj’ - to 
Glasgow, to take a passage to Canada. But winter 
was now set in, and as he thought it advisable to wait 
for a spring passage, when the St. Lawrence should be 
open, he settled among us for the few months of his 
stay in Britain. As we said before, the respectable 
old man met with deference and attention from all 
ranks of society; and when spring returned, he was so 
satisfied with his quarters, that he did not renew the 
purpose of his voyage. Janet was afraid of the sea, 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


xxi 


and he himself felt the infirmities of age and hard ser- 
vice more than he had at first expected. And, as he 
confessed to the clergyman, and my worthy principal, 
Mr. Cleishbotham, “it was better staying with kend 
friends, than going farther, and faring worse.” 

He therefore established himself and his domicile at 
Gandercleugh, to the great satisfaction, as we have 
already said, of all its inhabitants, to whom he became, 
in respect of military intelligence, and able commen- 
taries upon the newspapers, gazettes, and bulletins, a 
very oracle, explanatory of all martial events, past, 
present, or to come. 

It is true, the Sergeant had his inconsistencies. He 
was a steady jacobite, his father and his four uncles 
having been out in the forty -five; but he was a no less 
steady adherent of King George, in whose service he 
had made his little fortune, and lost three brothers ; so 
that you were in equal danger to displease him, in 
terming Prince Charles, the Pretender, or by saying 
any thing derogatory to the dignity of King George. 
Further, it must not be denied, that when the day of 
receiving his dividends came round, the Sergeant was 
apt to tarry longer at the Wallace Arms of an evening, 
than was consistent with strict temperance, or indeed 
with his worldly interest; for upon these occasions, his 
compotators sometimes contrived to flatter his partiali- 
ties by singing jacobite songs, and drinking confusion 
to Bonaparte, and the health of the Duke of Welling- 
ton, until the Sergeant was not only flattered into 
paying the whole reckoning, but occasionally induced 
to lend small sums to his interested companions. After 
such sprays, as he called them, were over, and his tem- 
per once more cool, he seldom failed to thank God, and 
the Duke of York, who had made it much more difficult 
for an old soldier to ruin himself by his folly, than 
had been the case in his younger days. 


xxii INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST EDITION OF 


It was not on such occasions that I made a part of 
Sergeant More M'Alpin’s society. But often, when 
my leisure would permit, I used to seek him, on what 
he called his morning and evening parade, on which, 
when the weather was fair, he appeared as regular^ as 
if summoned by tuck of drum. His morning walk 
was beneath the elms in the churchyard; “for death / 1 
he said, “had been his next-door neighbour for so 
many years, that he had no apology for dropping the 
acquaintance.” His evening promenade was on the 
bleaching-green by the river-side, where he was some- 
times to he seen on an open bench, with spectacles on 
nose, conning over the newspapers to a circle of village 
politicians, explaining military terms, and aiding the 
comprehension of his hearers by lines drawn on the 
ground with the end of his rattan. On other occasions, 
he was surrounded by a bevy of school-boys, whom he 
sometimes drilled to the manual, and sometimes, with 
less approbation on the part of their parents, instructed 
in the mystery of artificial fire-works ; for in the case 
of public rejoicings, the Sergeant was pyrotechnist (as 
the Encyclopedia calls it) to the village of Gander- 
cleugh. 

It was in his morning walk that I most frequently 
met with the veteran. And I can hardly yet look 
upon the village footpath, overshadowed by the row of 
lofty elms, without thinking I see his upright form 
advancing towards me with measured step, and his 
cane advanced, ready to pay me the military salute — 
but he is dead, and sleeps with his faithful Janet, 
under the third of those very trees, counting from the 
stile at the west corner of the churchyard. 

The delight which I had in Sergeant M ‘A1 pin’s 
conversation, related not only to his own adventures, 
of which he had encountered many in the course of a 
wandering life, but also to his recollection of numer- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. xxiii 

oils Highland traditions, in which his youth had been 
instructed by his parents, and of which he would in 
after life have deemed it a kind of heresy to question 
the authenticity. Many of these belonged to the wars 
of Montrose, in which some of the Sergeant’s ancestry 
had, it seems, taken a distinguished part. It has hap- 
pened, that, although these civil commotions reflect 
the highest honour upon the Highlanders, being 
indeed the first occasion upon which they showed them- 
selves superior, or even equal to their Lowcountry 
neighbours in military encounters, they have been less 
commemorated among them than any one would have 
expected, judging from the abundance of' traditions 
which they have preserved upon less interesting sub- 
jects. It was, therefore, with great pleasure, that I 
extracted from my military friend some curious partic- 
ulars respecting that time; they are mixed with that 
measure of the wild and wonderful which belongs to 
the period and the narrator, but which I do not in the 
least object to the reader’s treating with disbelief, pro- 
viding he will be so good as give implicit credit to the 
natural events of the story, which, like all those which 
I have had the honour to put under his notice, actually 
rest upon a basis of truth. 



































» 

• 












































, 4 4 ' i-M ) '..ik/tyf 




> 















INTRODUCTION 


TO 

A LEGEND OF MONTEOSE. 


The Legend of Montrose was written chiefly with a 
view to place before the reader the melancholy fate of 
John Lord Kilpont, eldest son of William Earl of Airtli 
and Menteith, and the singular circumstances attending 
the birth and histone of James Stewart of Ardvoirlieh, 
by whose hand the unfortunate nobleman fell. 

Our subject leads us to talk of deadly feuds, and we 
must begin with one still more ancient than that to 
which our story relates. During the reign of James IV., 
a great feud between the powerful families of Drummond 
and Murray divided Perthshire. The former, being the 
most numerous and powerful, cooped up eight score of 
the Murrays in the kirk of Monivaird, and set fire to 
it. The wives and the children of the ill-fated men, 
who had also found shelter in the church, perished by 
the same conflagration. One man, named David Mur- 
raj r , escaped by the humanity of one of the Drummonds, 
who received him in his arms as he leaped from amongst 
the flames. As King James IV. ruled with more ac- 
tivity than most of his predecessors, this cruel deed was 
severely revenged, and several of the perpetrators were 
beheaded at Stirling. In consequence of the prosecu- 
tion against his clan, the Drummond by whose assist- 
ance David Murray had escaped, fled to Ireland, until, 


XXVI 


INTRODUCTION TO 


by means of the person whose life he had saved, he was 
permitted to return to Scotland, where he and his de- 
scendants were distinguished by the name of Drum- 
mond-Eirinich, or Ernoch, that is, Drummond of 
Ireland; and the same title was bestowed on their 
estate. 

The Drummond-ernoch of James the Sixth’s time 
was a king’s forester in the forest of Glenartney, and 
chanced to be employed there in search of venison about 
the year 1588, or early in 1589. This forest was adja- 
cent to the chief haunts of the MacGregors, or a par- 
ticular race of them, known by the title of MacEagh, 
or Children of the Mist. They considered the forester’s 
hunting in their vicinity as an aggression, or perhaps 
they had him at feud, for the apprehension or slaughter 
of some of their own name, or for some similar reason. 
This tribe of MacGregors were outlawed and persecuted, 
as the reader may see in the Introduction to Rob Roy; 
and every man’s hand being against them, their hand 
was of course directed against every man. In short, 
they surprised and slew Drummond-ernoch, cut off his 
head, and carried it with them, wrapt in the corner of 
one of their plaids. 

In the full exultation of vengeance, they stopped at 
the house of Ardvoirlich and demanded refreshment, 
which the lady, a sister of the murdered Drummond- 
ernoch, (her husband being absent,) was afraid or un- 
willing to refuse. She caused bread and cheese to be 
placed before them, and gave directions for more sub- 
stantial refreshments to be prepared. While she was 
absent with this hospitable intention, the barbarians 
placed the head of her brother on the table, filling the 
mouth with bread and cheese, and bidding him eat, for 
many a merry meal he had eaten in that house. 

The poor woman returning, and beholding this dread- 
ful sight, shrieked aloud, and fled into the woods, where, 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


XXVll 


as described in the romance, she roamed a raving maniac, 
and for some time secreted herself from all living society. 
Some remaining instinctive feeling brought her at length 
to steal a glance from a distance at the maidens while 
they milked the cows, which being observed, her hus- 
band, Ardvoirlich, had her conveyed back to her home, 
and detained her there till she gave birth to a child, of 
whom she had been pregnant; after which she was 
observed gradually to recover her mental faculties. 

Meanwhile the outlaws had carried to the utmost 
their insults against the regal authority, which indeed, 
as exercised, they had little reason for respecting. 
They bore the same bloody trophy, which they had so 
savagely exhibited to the lady of Ardvoirlich, into the 
old church of Balquidder, nearly in the centre of their 
country, where the Laird of MacGregor and all his clan 
being convened for the purpose, laid their hands succes- 
sively on the dead man’s head, and swore, in heathenish 
and barbarous manner, to defend the author of the deed. 
This fierce and vindictive combination gave the author’s 
late and lamented friend, Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart., 
subject for a spirited poem, entitled “ Clan-Alpin’s 
Vow,” which was printed, but not, I believe, published, 
in 1811. 1 

The fact is ascertained by a proclamation from the 
Privy Council, dated 4th February, 1589, directing 
letters of fire and sword against the MacGregors. 2 
This fearful commission was executed with uncommon 
fury. The late excellent John Buchanan of Cambus- 
more showed the author some correspondence between 
his ancestor, the Laird of Buchanan, and Lord Drum- 
mond, about sweeping certain valleys with their follow- 
ers, on a fixed time and rendezvous, and (i taking sweet 
revenge for the death of their cousin, Drummond- 
ernoch.” In spite of all, however, that could be done, 
1 See Appendix. No. I. 2 See Appendix. No. II. 


XXV111 


INTRODUCTION TO 


the devoted tribe of MacGregor still bred up survivors 
to sustain and to inflict new cruelties and injuries. 1 

Meanwhile young James Stewart of Ardvoirlicli grew 
up to manhood uncommonly tall, strong, and active, 
with such power in the grasp of his hand in particular, 
as could force the blood from beneath the nails of the 
persons who contended with him in this feat of strength. 
His temper was moody, fierce, and irascible ; yet he must 
have had some ostensible good qualities, as he was greatly 
beloved by Lord Kilpont, the eldest son of the Earl of 
Airth and Menteith. 

This gallant young nobleman joined Montrose in the 
setting up his standard in 1644, just before the decisive 
battle at Tippermuir, on the 1st September in that year. 
At that time, Stewart of Ardvoirlicli shared the confi- 

1 I embrace the opportunity given me by a second mention of 
this tribe, to notice an error, .which imputes to an individual named 
Ciar Mohr MacGregor, the slaughter of the students at the battle 
of Glenfruin. I am informed from the authority of John Gregor, 
son, Esq., that the chieftain so named was dead nearly a century 
before the battle in question, and could not, therefore, have done 
the cruel action mentioned. The mistake does not rest with me, as I 
disclaimed being responsible for the tradition while I quoted it, but 
with vulgar fame, which is always disposed to ascribe remarkable 
actions to a remarkable name. — See the erroneous passage, Rob 
Roy, Yol. I., Introduction, p. xv. ; and so soft sleep the offended 
phantom of Dugald Ciar Mohr. 

It is with mingled pleasure and shame that I record the more 
important error, of having announced as deceased my learned 
acquaintance, the Rev. Dr. Grahame, minister of Aberfoil. — See 
Rob Roy, Vol. II. p. 181. I cannot now recollect the precise ground 
of my depriving my learned and excellent friend of his existence, 
unless, like Mr. Kirke, his predecessor in the parish, the excellent 
Doctor had made a short trip to Fairyland, with whose wonders he 
is so well acquainted. But however I may have been misled, my 
regret is most sincere for having spread such a rumour ; and no 
one can be more gratified than I that the report, however I have 
been induced to credit and give it currency, is a false one, and that 
Dr. Grahame is still the living pastor of Aberfoil, for the delight 
and instruction of his brother antiquaries. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


XXIX 


dence of the young Lord by day, and his bed by night, 
when, about four or five days after the battle, Ardvoir- 
lich, either from a fit of sudden fury or deep malice 
long entertained against his unsuspecting friend, 
stabbed Lord Kilpont to the heart, and escaped from 
the camp of Montrose, having killed a sentinel who at- 
tempted to detain him. Bishop Guthrie gives as a reason 
for this villainous action, that Lord Kilpont had rejected 
with abhorrence a proposal of Ardvoirlich to assassinate 
Montrose. But it does not appear that there is any 
authority for this charge, which rests on mere sus- 
picion. Ardvoirlich, the assassin, certainly did fly to 
the Covenanters, and was employed and promoted by 
them. He obtained a pardon for the slaughter of Lord 
Kilpont, confirmed by Parliament in 1644, and was 
made Major of Argyle’s regiment in 1648. Such are 
the facts of the tale, here given as a Legend of Mon- 
trose’s wars. The reader will find they are consider- 
ably altered in the fictitious narrative. 

The author has endeavoured to enliven the tragedy 
of the tale by the introduction of a personage proper to 
the time and country. In this he has been held by ex- 
cellent judges to have been in some degree successful. 
The contempt of commerce entertained by young men 
having some pretence to gentility, the poverty of the 
country of Scotland, the national disposition to wander- 
ing and to adventure, all conduced to lead the Scots 
abroad into the military service of countries which were 
at war with each other. They were distinguished on 
the Continent by their bravery; but in adopting the 
trade of mercenary soldiers, they necessarily injured 
their national character. The tincture of learning, 
which most of them possessed, degenerated into pedan- 
try ; their good breeding became mere ceremonial ; their 
fear of dishonour no longer kept them aloof from that 
which was really unworthy, but was made to depend on 


XXX 


INTRODUCTION TO 


certain punctilious observances totally apart from that 
which was in itself deserving of praise. A cavalier of 
honour, in search of his fortune, might, for example, 
change his service as he would his shirt, fight, like the 
doughty Captain Dalgetty, in one cause after another, 
without regard to the justice of the quarrel, and might 
plunder the peasantry subjected to him by the fate of 
war with the most unrelenting rapacity; but he must 
beware how he sustained the slightest reproach, even 
from a clergyman, if it had regard to neglect on the 
score of duty. The following occurrence will prove the 
truth of what I mean : — 

“ Here I must not forget the memory of one preacher, Mas- 
ter William Forbesse, a preacher for souldiers, yea, and a 
captaine in neede to leade souldiers on a good occasion, being 
full of courage, with discretion and good conduct, beyond some 
captaines I have knowne, that were not so capable as he. At 
this time he not onely prayed for us, but went on with us, to 
remarke, as I thinke, men’s carriage ; and having found a ser- 
geant neglecting his dutie and his honour at such a time, (whose 
name I will not expresse,) having chidden him, did promise to 
reveale him unto me, as he did after their service. The ser- 
geant being called before me, and accused, did deny his ac- 
cusation, alleaging, if he were no pastour that had alleaged it, 
he would not lie under the injury. The preacher offered to 
fight with him, [in proof] that it was truth he had spoken of 
him ; whereupon I cashiered the sergeant, and gave his place 
to a worthier, called Mungo Gray, a gentleman of good worth, 
and of much courage. The sergeant being cashiered, never 
called Master William to account, for which he was evill 
thought of ; so that he retired home, and quit the warres.” 

The above quotation is taken from a work which the 
author repeatedly consulted while composing the follow- 
ing sheets, and which is in great measure written in the 
humour of Captain Dugald Dalgetty. It bears the fol- 
lowing formidable title: — “ Monro his Expedition 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


XXXI 


with the worthy Scots Regiment, called MacKeye’s 
Regiment, levied in August 1626, by Sir Donald Mac- 
Keye Lord Rees Colonel, for his Majestie’s service of 
Denmark, and reduced after the battle of Nerling, in 
September 1634, at Wormes, in the Palz: Discharged 
in several duties and observations of service, first, un- 
der the magnanimous King of Denmark, during his 
wars against the Empire; afterwards under the invin- 
cible King of Sweden, during his Majestie’s lifetime; 
and since under the Director-General, the Rex-Chancel- 
lor Oxensterne, and his Generals : Collected and gathered 
together, at spare hours, by Colonel Robert Monro, as 
First Lieutenant under the said Regiment, to the noble 
and worthy Captain Thomas MacKenzie of Kildon, 
brother to the noble Lord, the Lord Earl of Seaforth, 
for the use of all noble Cavaliers favouring the laud- 
able profession of arms. To which is annexed, the 
Abridgement of Exercise, and* divers Practical Obser- 
vations for the Younger Officer, his consideration. 
Ending with the Soldier’s Meditations on going on 
Service.” — London, 1637. 

Another worthy of the same school, and nearly the 
same views of the military character, is Sir James 
Turner, a soldier of fortune, who rose to considerable 
rank in the reign of Charles II., had a command in 
Galloway and Dumfries-shire, for the suppression of 
conventicles, and was made prisoner by the insurgent 
Covenanters in that rising which was followed by the 
battle of Pentland. Sir James is a person even of 
superior pretensions to Lieutenant-Colonel Monro, hav- 
ing written a Military Treatise on the Pike-Exercise, 
called “Pallas Armata.” Moreover, he was educated 
at Glasgow College, though he escaped to become an 
Ensign in the German wars, instead of taking his de- 
gree of Master of Arts at that learned seminary. 

In latter times, he was author of several discourses on 


xxxu 


INTRODUCTION TO 


historical and literary subjects, from which the Banna- 
tyne Club have extracted and printed such passages as 
concern his Life and Times, under the title of “ Sir 
James Turner’s Memoirs.” From this curious hook I 
extract the following passage, as an example of how 
Captain Dalgetty might have recorded such an incident 
had he kept a journal, or, to give it a more just charac- 
ter, it is such as the genius of De Foe would have de- 
vised, to give the minute and distinguishing features 
of truth to a fictitious narrative : — 

“ Heere I will set doun ane accident befell me ; for thogh it 
was not a very strange one, yet it was a very od one in all its 
parts. My tuo brigads lay in a village within halfe a mile of 
Applebie ; my own quarter was in a gentleman’s house, who 
was a Ritmaster, and at that time with Sir Marmaduke ; his 
wife keepd her chamber readie to be brought to bed. The 
castle being over, and Lambert farre enough, I resolved 
to goe to bed everie night, haveing had fatigue enough be- 
fore. The first night I sleepd well enough ; and riseing nixt 
morning, I misd one linnen stockine, one halfe silke one, and 
one boothose, the accoustrement under a boote for one leg ; 
neither could they be found for any search. Being provided 
of more of the same kind, I made myselfe reddie, and rode to 
the head-quarters. At my returne, I could heare no news of 
my stockins. That night I went to bed, and nixt morning 
found myselfe just so used ; missing the three stockins for one 
leg onlie, the other three being left intire as they were the day 
before. A narrower search then the first was made, bot with- 
out successe. I had yet in reserve one paire of whole stockings, 
and a paire of boothose, greater than the former. These I put 
on my legs. The third morning I found the same usage, the 
stockins for one leg onlie left me. It was time for me then, 
and my servants too, to imagine it must be rats that had shard 
my stockins so inequallie with me ; and this the mistress of the 
house knew well enough, but wold not tell it me. The roome, 
which was a low parlour, being well searched with candles, the 
top of my great boothose was found at a hole, in which they 
had drawne all the rest. I went abroad and orderd the boards 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. xxxiii 

to be raised, to see how the rats had disposd of my moveables. 
The mistress sent a servant of her oune to be present at this 
action, which she knew concernd her. One board being bot 
a litle opend, a litle boy of mine thrust in his hand, and fetchd 
with him foure and tuentie old peeces of gold, and one angell. 
The servant of the house affirmed it appertaind to his mistres. 
The boy bringing the gold to me, I went immediatlie to the 
gentlewomans chamber, and told her, it was probable Lambert 
haveing quarterd in that house, as indeed he had, some of his 
servants might have hid that gold ; and if so, it was lawfullie 
mine ; bot if she could make it appeare it belongd to her, I 
sould immediatlie give it her. The poore gentlewoman told 
me with many teares, that her husband being none of the fru- 
gallest men, (and indeed he was a spendthrift) she had hid 
that gold without his knowledge, to make use of it as she had 
occasion, especiallie when she lay in ; and conjured me, as I 
lovd the King, (for whom her husband and she had sufferd 
much) not to detaine her gold. She said, if there was either 
more or lesse than foure and tuentie whole peeces, and two 
halfe ones, it sould be none of hers ; and that they were put 
by her in a red velvet purse. After I had given her assure- 
ance of her gold, a new search is made, the other angell is 
found, the velvet purse all gnawd in bits, as my stockins were, 
and the gold instantlie restord to the gentlewoman. I have 
often heard that the eating or gnawing of cloths by rats is 
ominous, and portends some mischance to fall on these to 
whom the cloths belong. I thank God I was never addicted to 
such divinations, or heeded them. It is true, that more mis- 
fortunes then one fell on me shortlie after ; bot I am sure I 
could have better forseene them myselfe then rats or any such 
vermine, and yet did it not. I have heard indeed many 
fine stories told of rats, how they abandon houses and ships, 
when the first are to be burnt, and the second dround. Nat- 
uralists say they are very sagacious creatures, and I beleeve 
they are so ; bot I shall never be of the opinion they can for- 
see future contingencies, which I suppose the divell himselfe 
can neither forknow nor fortell ; these being things which the 
Almightie hath keepd hidden in the bosome of his divine pres- 
cience. And whither the great God hath preordained or pre- 
destinated these things, which to us are contingent, to fall out 

c 


XXXIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


by ane uncontrollable and unavoidable necessitie, is a question 
not yet decided.” 1 

In quoting these ancient authorities, I must not for- 
get the more modern sketch of a Scottish soldier of the 
old fashion, by a master-hand, in the character of Les- 
mahagow, since the existence of that doughty Captain 
alone must deprive the present author of all claim to 
absolute originality. Still Dalgetty, as the production 
of his own fancy, has been so far a favourite with its 
parent, that he has fallen into the error of assigning to 
the Captain too prominent a part in the story. This is 
the opinion of a critic who encamps on the highest pin- 
nacles of literature ; and the author is so far fortunate 
in having incurred his censure, that it gives his modesty 
a decent apology for quoting the praise, which it would 
have ill-befitted him to bring forward in an unmingled 
state. The passage occurs in the Edinburgh Review, 
N" o. 55, containing a criticism on Ivanhoe : — 

“ There is too much, perhaps, of Dalgetty, — or, rather, he 
engrosses too great a proportion of the work, — for, in himself, 
we think he is uniformly entertaining ; — and the author has 
nowhere shown more affinity to that matchless spirit who could 
bring out his Falstaffs and his Pistols, in act after act, and play 
after play, and exercise them every time with scenes of un- 
bounded loquacity, without either exhausting their humour, or 
varying a note from its characteristic tone, than in his large and 
reiterated specimens of the eloquence of the redoubted Ritt- 
master. The general idea of the character is familiar to our 
comic dramatists after the Restoration — and may be said in 
some measure to be compounded of Captain Fluellen and 
Bobadil ; — but the ludicrous combination of the soldado with 
the Divinity student of Mareschal-College, is entirely original ; 
and the mixture of talent, selfishness, courage, coarseness, and 
conceit, was never so happily exemplified. Numerous as his 
speeches are, there is not one that is not characteristic — and, 
to our taste, divertingly ludicrous.” 

1 Sir James Turner’s Memoirs, Bannatyne edition, p. 59. 


POSTSCRIPT. 


While these pages were passing through the press, the 
author received a letter from the present Robert Stewart 
of Ardvoirlich, favouring him with the account of the 
unhappy slaughter of Lord Kilpont, differing from, and 
more probable than, that given by Bishop Wishart, whose 
narrative infers either insanity or the blackest treach- 
ery on the part of James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, the 
ancestor of the present family of that name. It is but 
fair to give the entire communication as received from 
my respected correspondent, which is more minute than 
the histories of the period. 

“ Although I have not the honour of being personally known 
to you, I hope you will excuse the liberty I now take, in ad- 
dressing you on the subject of a transaction more than once 
alluded to by you, in which an ancestor of mine was unhappily 
concerned. I allude to the slaughter of Lord Kilpont, son of 
the Earl of Airth and Monteith, in 1644, by James Stewart of 
Ardvoirlich. As the cause of this unhappy event, and the 
quarrel which led to it, have never been correctly stated in 
any history of the period in which it took place, I am induced, 
in consequence of your having, in the second series of your ad- 
mirable Tales on the History of Scotland, adopted Wishart’s 
version of the transaction, and being aware that your having 
done so will stamp it with an authenticity which it does not 
merit, and with a view, as far as possible, to do justice to the 
memory of my unfortunate ancestor, to send you the account 
of this affair as it has been handed down in the family. 

“James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, who lived in the early part 
of the 17th century, and who was the unlucky cause of the 
slaughter of Lord Kilpont, as before mentioned, was appointed 


XXXVI 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


to the command of one of several independent companies raised 
in the Highlands at the commencement of the troubles in the 
reign of Charles I. ; another of these companies was under the 
command of Lord Kilpont, and a strong intimacy, strengthened 
by a distant relationship, subsisted between them. When Mon- 
trose raised the royal standard, Ardvoirlich was one of the first 
to declare for him, and is said to have been a principal means 
of bringing over Lord Kilpont to the same cause; and they 
accordingly, along with Sir John Drummond and their respec- 
tive followers, joined Montrose, as recorded by Wishart, at 
Buchanty. While they served together, so strong was their 
intimacy, that they lived and slept in the same tent. 

“ In the meantime, Montrose had been joined by the Irish 
under the command of Alexander Macdonald ; these, on their 
march to join Montrose, had committed some excesses on lands 
belonging to Ardvoirlich, which lay in the line of their march 
from the west coast. Of this Ardvoirlich complained to 
Montrose, who, probably wishing as much as possible to con- 
ciliate his new allies, treated it in rather an evasive manner. 
Ardvoirlich, who was a man of violent passions, having failed 
to receive such satisfaction as he required, challenged Macdonald 
to single combat. Before they met, however, Montrose, on the 
information and by advice, as it is said, of Kilpont, laid them 
both under arrest. Montrose, seeing the evils of such a feud 
at such a critical time, effected a sort of reconciliation between 
them, and forced them to shake hands in his presence ; when, 
it was said, that Ardvoirlich, who was a very powerful man, 
took such a hold of Macdonald’s hand as to make the blood 
start from his fingers. Still, it would appear, Ardvoirlich was 
by no means reconciled. 

“ A few days after the battle of Tippermuir, when Montrose 
with his army was encamped at Collace, an entertainment was 
given by him to his officers, in honour of the victory he had 
obtained, and Kilpont and his comrade Ardvoirlich were of 
the party. After returning to their quarters, Ardvoirlich, who 
seemed still to brood over his quarrel with Macdonald, and be- 
ing heated with drink, began to blame Lord Kilpont for the 
part he had taken in preventing his obtaining redress, and re- 
flecting against Montrose for not allowing him what he con- 
sidered proper reparation. Kilpont of course defended the 


( 


POSTSCRIPT. 


XXXVll 


conduct of himself and his relative Montrose, till their argui- 
ment came to high words ; and finally, from the state they were 
both in, by an easy transition, to blows, when Ardvoirlich, with 
his dirk, struck Kilpont dead on the spot. He immediately 
fled, and under the cover of a thick mist escaped pursuit, 
leaving his eldest son Henry, who had been mortally wounded 
at Tippermuir, on his deathbed. 

“ His followers immediately withdrew from Montrose, and 
no course remained for him but to throw himself into the arms 
of the opposite faction, by whom he was well received. His 
name is frequently mentioned in Leslie’s campaigns, and on 
more than one occasion he is mentioned as having afforded 
protection to several of his former friends through his interest 
with Leslie, when the King’s cause became desperate. 

“The foregoing account of this unfortunate transaction, I 
am well aware, differs materially from the account given by 
Wishart, who alleges that Stewart had laid a plot for the as- 
sassination of Montrose, and that he murdered Lord Kilpont 
in consequence of his refusal to participate in his design. 
Now, I may be allowed to remark, that besides Wishart hav- 
ing always been regarded as a partial historian, and very ques- 
tionable authority on any subject connected with the motives or 
conduct of those who differed from him in opinion, that even 
had Stewart formed such a design, Kilpont, from his name 
and connexions, was likely to be the very last man of whom 
Stewart would choose to make a confidant and accomplice. On 
the other hand, the above account, though never, that I am 
aware, before hinted at, has been a constant tradition in the 
family ; and, from the comparative recent date of the transac- 
tion, and the sources from which the tradition has been de- 
rived, I have no reason to doubt its perfect authenticity. It 
was most circumstantially detailed as above, given to my father, 
Mr. Stewart, now of Ardvoirlich, many years ago, by a man 
nearly connected with the family, who lived to the age of 100. 
This man was a great grandson of James Stewart, by a natural 
son John, of whom many stories are still current in this coun- 
try, under his appellation of John dhu Mhor. This John was 
with his father at the time, and of course was a witness of the 
whole transaction ; he lived till a considerable time after the 
Revolution, and it was from him that my father’s informant, 


xxxviii A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 

who was a man before his grandfather, John dhu Mhor’s death, 
received the information as above stated. 

“ I have many apologies to offer for trespassing so long on 
your patience ; but I felt a natural desire, if possible, to cor- 
rect what I conceive to be a groundless imputation on the 
memory of my ancestor, before it shall come to be considered 
as a matter of History. That he was a man of violent passions 
and singular temper, I do not pretend to deny, as many tradi- 
tions still current in this country amply verify ; but that he 
was capable of forming a design to assassinate Montrose, the 
whole tenor of his former conduct and principles contradict. 
That he was obliged to join the opposite party, was merely a 
matter of safety, while Kilpont had so many powerful friends 
and connexions able and ready to avenge his death. 

“ I have only to add, that you have my full permission to 
make what use of this communication you please, and either to 
reject it altogether, or allow it such credit as you think it de- 
serves ; and I shall be ready at all times to furnish you with 
any further information on this subject which you may require, 
and which it may be in my power to afford. 

“ Ardvoirlich, 

15fA January, 1830.” 

The publication of a statement so particular, and 
probably so correct, is a debt due to the memory of 
James Stewart; the victim, it would seem, of his own 
violent passions, but perhaps incapable of an act of 
premeditated treachery. 

Abbotsford, 
ls£ August, 1830. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 


CHAPTER I. 

Such as do build their faith upon 
The holy text of pike and gun. 

Decide all controversies by 
Infallible artillery, 

And prove their doctrine orthodox, 

By apostolic blows and knocks. 

Butler. 

It was during the period of that great and bloody 
Civil War which agitated Britain during the seven- 
teenth century, that our tale has its commencement. 
Scotland had as yet remained free from the ravages 
of intestine war, although its inhabitants were 
much divided in political opinions; and many of 
them, tired of the control of the Estates of Parlia- 
ment, and disapproving of the bold measure which 
they had adopted, by sending into England a large 
army to the assistance of the Parliament, were 
determined on their part to embrace the earliest 
opportunity of declaring for the King, and making 
such a diversion as should at least compel the recall 
of General Leslie’s army out of England, if it did 
not recover a great part of Scotland to the King’s 
allegiance. This plan was chiefly adopted by the 
northern nobility, who had resisted with great obsti- 
nacy the adoption Of the Solemn League and Cov- 
i 


2 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


enant, and by many of the chiefs of the Highland 
clans, who conceived their interest and authority 
to be connected with royalty, who had, besides, a 
decided aversion to the Presbyterian form of reli- 
gion, and who, finally, were in that half savage 
state of society, in which war is always more wel- 
come than peace. 

Great commotions were generally expected to 
arise from these concurrent causes ; and the trade of 
incursion and depredation, which the Scotch High- 
landers at all times exercised upon the Lowlands, 
began to assume a more steady, avowed, and syste- 
matic form, as part of a general military system. 

Those at the head of affairs were not insensible 
to the peril of the moment, and anxiously made 
preparations to meet and to repel it. They con- 
sidered, however, with satisfaction, that no leader 
or name of consequence had as yet appeared to 
assemble an army of royalists, or even to direct the 
efforts of those desultory bands, whom love of plun- 
der, perhaps, as much as political principle, had 
hurried into measures of hostility. It was gener- 
ally hoped that the quartering a sufficient number 
of troops in the Lowlands adjacent to the High- 
land line, would have the effect of restraining the 
mountain chieftains ; while the power of various 
barons in the north, who had espoused the Cove- 
nant, as, for example, the Earl Mareschal, the great 
families of Forbes, Leslie, and Irvine, the Grants, 
and other Presbyterian clans, might counterbalance 
and bridle, not only the strength of the Ogilvies 
and other cavaliers of Angus and Kincardine, but 
even the potent family of the Gordons, whose exten- 
sive authority was only equalled by their extreme 
dislike to the Presbyterian model. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


3 


In the West Highlands the ruling party num- 
bered many enemies ; but the power of these dis- 
affected clans was supposed to be broken, and the 
spirit of their chieftains intimidated, by the predom- 
inating influence of the Marquis of Argyle, upon 
whom the confidence of the Convention of Estates 
was reposed with the utmost security ; and whose 
power in the Highlands, already exorbitant, had 
been still farther increased by concessions extorted 
from the King at the last pacification. It was in- 
deed well known that Argyle was a man rather of 
political enterprise than personal courage, and bet- 
ter calculated to manage an intrigue of state, than 
to control the tribes of hostile mountaineers ; yet 
the numbers of his clan, and the spirit of the gal- 
lant gentlemen by whom it was led, might, it was 
supposed, atone for the personal deficiencies of their 
chief; and as the Campbells had already severely 
humbled several of the neighbouring tribes, it was 
supposed these would not readily again provoke an 
encounter with a body so powerful. 

Thus having at their command the whole west 
and south of Scotland, indisputably the richest part 
of the kingdom, — Fifeshire being in a peculiar man- 
ner their own, and possessing many and powerful 
friends even north of the Forth and Tay, — the Scot- 
tish Convention of Estates saw no danger sufficient 
to induce them to alter the line of policy they had 
adopted, or to recall from the assistance of their 
brethren of the English Parliament that auxiliary 
army of twenty thousand men, by means of which 
accession of strength, the King’s party had been 
reduced to the defensive, when in full career of 
triumph and success. 

The causes which moved the Convention of 


4 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Estates at this time to take such an immediate 
and active interest in the civil war of England, are 
detailed in our historians, but may be here shortly 
recapitulated. They had indeed no new injury or 
aggression to complain of at the hand of the King, 
and the peace which had been made between Charles 
and his subjects of Scotland had been carefully 
observed ; but the Scottish rulers were well aware 
that this peace had been extorted from the King, 
as well by the influence of the parliamentary party 
in England, as by the terror of their own arms. 
It is true, King Charles had since then visited the 
capital of his ancient kingdom, had assented to the 
new organization of the church, and had distributed 
honours and rewards among the leaders of the party 
which had shown themselves most hostile to his 
interests ; but it was suspected that distinctions so 
unwillingly conferred would be resumed as soon as 
opportunity offered. The low state of the English 
Parliament was seen in Scotland with deep appre- 
hension ; and it was concluded, that should Charles 
triumph by force of arms against his insurgent sub- 
jects of England, he would not be long in exacting 
from the Scotch the vengeance which he might sup- 
pose due to those who had set the example of taking 
up arms against him. Such was the policy of the 
measure which dictated the sending the auxiliary 
army into England ; and it was avowed in a mani- 
festo explanatory of their reasons for giving this 
timely and important aid to the English Parliament. 
The English Parliament, they said, had been al- 
ready friendly to them, and might be so again; 
whereas the King, although he had so lately estab- 
lished religion among them according to their 
desires, had given them no ground to confide in his 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


5 


royal declaration, seeing they had found his prom- 
ises and actions inconsistent with each other. 
“ Our conscience,” they concluded, “ and God, who 
is greater than our conscience, beareth us record, 
that we aim altogether at the glory of God, peace 
of both nations, and honour of the King, in sup- 
pressing and punishing in a legal way, those who 
are the troublers of Israel, the firebrands of hell, the 
Korahs, the Balaams, the Doegs, the Rabshakehs, 
the Hamans, the Tobiahs, the Samballats of our 
time ; which done, we are satisfied. Neither have 
we begun to use a military expedition to England 
as a mean for compassing those our pious ends, 
until all other means which we could think upon 
have failed us : and this alone is left to us, ultimum 
et unicum remedium , the last and only remedy.” 

Leaving it to casuists to determine whether one 
contracting party is justified in breaking a solemn 
treaty, upon the suspicion that, in certain future 
contingencies, it might be infringed by the other, 
we shall proceed to mention two other circum- 
stances that had at least equal influence with the 
Scottish rulers and nation, with any doubts which 
they entertained of the King’s good faith. 

The first of these was the nature and condition 
of their army ; headed by a poor and discontented 
nobility, under whom it was officered chiefly by 
Scottish soldiers of fortune, who had served in the 
German wars until they had lost almost all distinc- 
tion of political principle, and even of country, in 
the adoption of the mercenary faith, that a soldier’s 
principal duty was fidelity to the state or sovereign 
from whom he received his pay, without respect 
either to the justice of the quarrel, or to their own 
connexion with either of the contending parties. 


6 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


To men of this stamp, Grotius applies the severe 
character — Nullum vitae genus est imjorobius, quam 
eorum , qui sine causae resjpectu mercede conducti , mil- 
itant To these mercenary soldiers, as well as to 
the needy gentry with whom they were mixed in 
command, and who easily imbibed the same opin- 
ions, the success of the late short invasion of Eng- 
land in 1641 was a sufficient reason for renewing 
so profitable an experiment. The good pay and 
free quarters of England had made a feeling im- 
pression upon the recollection of these military 
adventurers, and the prospect of again levying eight 
hundred and fifty pounds a-day, came in place of 
all arguments, whether of state or of morality. 

Another cause inflamed the minds of the nation 
at large, no less than the tempting prospect of the 
wealth of England animated the soldiery. So much 
had been written and said on either side concern- 
ing the form of church government, that it had be- 
come a matter of infinitely more consequence in the 
eyes of the multitude than the doctrines of that gos- 
pel which both churches had embraced. The Pre- 
latists and Presbyterians of the more violent kind 
became as illiberal as the Papists, and would scarcely 
allow the possibility of salvation beyond the pale 
of their respective churches. It was in vain re- 
marked to these zealots, that had the Author of our 
holy religion considered any peculiar form of 
church government as essential to salvation, it 
would have been revealed with the same precision 
as under the Old Testament dispensation. Both 
parties continued as violent as if they could have 
pleaded the distinct commands of Heaven to jus- 
tify their intolerance. Laud, in the days of his 
domination, had fired the train, by ‘attempting to 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


7 


impose upon the Scottish people church ceremonies 
foreign to their habits and opinions. The success 
with which this had been resisted, and the Presby- 
terian model substituted in its place, had endeared 
the latter to the nation, as the cause in which they 
had triumphed. The Solemn League and Cove- 
nant, adopted with such zeal by the greater part of 
the kingdom, and by them forced, at the sword’s 
point, upon the others, bore in its bosom, as its 
principal object, the establishing the doctrine and 
discipline of the Presbyterian church, and the put- 
ting down all error and heresy ; and having attained 
for their own country an establishment of this 
golden candlestick, the Scots became liberally and 
fraternally anxious to erect the same in England. 
This they conceived might be easily attained by 
lending to the Parliament the effectual assistance 
of the Scottish forces. The Presbyterians, a nu- 
merous and powerful party in the English Parlia- 
ment, had hitherto taken the lead in opposition to 
the King ; while the Independents and other sec- 
taries, who afterwards, under Cromwell, resumed 
the power of the sword, and overset the Presby- 
terian model both in Scotland and England, were 
as yet contented to lurk under the shelter of the 
wealthier and more powerful party. The prospect 
of bringing to a uniformity the kingdoms of Eng- 
land and Scotland in discipline and worship, seemed 
therefore as fair as it was desirable. 

The celebrated Sir Henry Yane, one of the com- 
missioners who negotiated the alliance betwixt 
England and Scotland, saw the influence which this 
bait had upon the spirits of those with whom he 
dealt ; and although himself a violent Independent, 
he contrived at once to gratify and to elude the 


8 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


eager desires of the Presbyterians, by qualifying 
the obligation to reform the Church of England, 
as a change to be executed “ according to the word 
of God, and the best reformed churches.” Deceived 
by their own eagerness, themselves entertaining no 
doubts on the Jus Divinum of their own ecclesias- 
tical establishments, and not holding it jfossible 
such doubts could be adopted by others, the Con- 
vention of Estates and the Kirk of Scotland con- 
ceived, that such expressions necessarily inferred the 
establishment of Presbytery ; nor were they un- 
deceived, until, when their help was no longer need- 
ful, the sectaries gave them to understand, that the 
phrase might be as well applied to Independency, 
or any other mode of worship, which those who 
were at the head of affairs at the time might con- 
sider as agreeable “ to the word of God, and the 
practice of the reformed churches.” Neither were 
the outwitted Scottish less astonished to find, that 
the designs of the English sectaries struck against 
the monarchial constitution of Britain, it having 
been their intention to reduce the power of the 
King, but by no means to abrogate the office. They 
fared, however, in this respect, like rash physicians, 
who commence by over-physicking a patient, until 
he is reduced to a state of weakness, from which 
cordials are afterwards unable to recover him. 

But these events were still in the womb of fu- 
turity. As yet the Scottish Parliament held their 
engagement with England consistent with justice, 
prudence, and piety, and their military undertak- 
ing seemed to succeed to their very wish. The 
junction of the Scottish army with those of Fair- 
fax and Manchester, enabled the Parliamentary 
forces to besiege York, and to fight the desperate 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


9 


action of Long-Marston Moor, in which Prince Ru- 
pert and the Marquis of Newcastle were defeated. 
The Scottish auxiliaries, indeed, had less of the 
glory of this victory than their countrymen could 
desire. David Leslie, with their cavalry, fought 
bravely, and to them, as well as to Cromwell’s bri- 
gade of Independents, the honour of the day 
belonged ; but the old Earl of Leven, the covenant- 
ing general, was driven out of the field by the im- 
petuous charge of Prince Rupert, and was thirty 
miles distant, in full flight towards Scotland, when 
he was overtaken by the news that his party had 
gained a complete victory. 

The absence of these auxiliary troops, upon this 
crusade for the establishment of Presbyterianism in 
England, had considerably diminished the power 
of the Convention of Estates in Scotland, and had 
given rise to those agitations among the anti-cove- 
nanters, which we have noticed at the beginning of 
this chapter. 


CHAPTER II. 


His mother could for him as cradle set 
Her husband’s rusty iron corselet ; 

Whose jangling sound could hush her babe to rest, 

That never plain’d of his uneasy nest ; 

Then did he dream of dreary wars at hand, 

And woke, and fought, and won, ere he could stand. 

Hall’s Satires. 


It was towards the close of a summer’s evening, 
during the anxious period which we have com- 
memorated, that a young gentleman of quality, well 
mounted and armed, and accompanied by two ser- 
vants, one of whom led a sumpter horse, rode slowly 
up one of those steep passes, by which the High- 
lands are accessible from the Lowlands of Perth- 
shire *. 1 Their course had lain for some time along 
the banks of a lake, whose deep waters reflected 
the crimson beams of the western sun. The broken 
path which they pursued with some difficulty, was 
in some places shaded by ancient birches and oak- 
trees, and in others overhung by fragments of 
huge rock. Elsewhere, the hill, which formed the 
northern side of this beautiful sheet of water, arose 
in steep, but less precipitous acclivity, and was ar- 
rayed in heath of the darkest purple. In the present 
times, a scene so romantic would have been judged 
to possess the highest charms for the traveller ; but 

1 The beautiful pass of Leny, near Callender, in Monteith, 
would, in some respects, answer the description. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


ii 


those who journey in days of doubt and dread, pay 
little attention to picturesque scenery. 

The master kept, as often as the wood permit- 
ted, abreast of one or both of his domestics, and 
seemed earnestly to converse with them, probably 
because the distinctions of rank are readily set 
aside among those who are made to be sharers of 
common danger. The dispositions of the leading 
men who inhabit this wild country, and the proba- 
bility of their taking part in the political convulsions 
that were soon expected, were the subjects of their 
conversation. 

They had not advanced above half way up the 
lake, and the young gentleman was pointing to his 
attendants the spot where their intended road turned 
northwards, and, leaving the verge of the loch, 
ascended a ravine to the right hand, when they dis- 
covered a single horseman coming down the shore, 
as if to meet them. The gleam of the sunbeams 
upon his head-piece and corselet showed that he was 
in armour, and the purpose of the other travellers 
required that he should not pass unquestioned. 

“We must know who he is,” said the young gen- 
tleman, “ and whither he is going.” And putting 
spurs to his horse, he rode forward as fast as the 
rugged state of the road would permit, followed by 
his two attendants, until he reached the point where 
the pass along the side of the lake was intersected 
by that which descended from the ravine, securing 
thus against the possibility of the stranger eluding 
them, by turning into the latter road before they 
came up with him. 

The single horseman had mended his pace, when 
he first observed the three riders advance rapidly 
towards him ; but when he saw them halt and form 


2 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


a front, which completely occupied the path, he 
checked his horse, and advanced with great delib- 
eration ; so that each party had an opportunity to 
take a full survey of the other. The solitary 
stranger was mounted upon an able horse, fit for 
military service, and for the great weight which he 
had to carry, and his rider occupied his demipique, 
or war-saddle, with an air that showed it was his 
familiar seat. He had a bright burnished head- 
piece, with a plume of feathers, together with a 
cuirass, thick enough to resist a musket-ball, and a 
back-piece of lighter materials. These defensive 
arms he wore over a buff jerkin, along with a pair of 
gauntlets, or steel gloves, the tops of which reached 
up to his elbow, and which, like the rest of his 
armour, were of bright steel. At the front of his 
military saddle hung a case of pistols, far beyond 
the ordinary size, nearly two feet in length, and 
carrying bullets of twenty to the pound. A buff 
belt, with a broad silver buckle, sustained on one 
side a long straight double-edged broadsword, with 
a strong guard, and a blade calculated either to 
strike or push. On the right side hung a dagger 
of about eighteen inches in length ; a shoulder- 
belt sustained at his back a musketoon or blunder- 
buss, and was crossed by a bandelier containing his 
charges of ammunition. Thigh-pieces of steel, then 
termed taslets, met the tops of his huge jack-boots, 
and completed the equipage of a well-armed trooper 
of the period. 

The appearance of the horseman himself corre- 
sponded well with his military equipage, to which 
he had the air of having been long inured. He was 
above the middle size, and of strength sufficient to 
bear with ease the weight of his weapons, offensive 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


*3 


and defensive. His age might be forty and upwards, 
and his countenance was that of a resolute weather- 
beaten veteran, who had seen many fields, and 
brought away in token more than one scar. At the 
distance of about thirty yards he halted and stood 
fast, raised himself on his stirrups, as if to recon- 
noitre and ascertain the purpose of the opposite 
party, and brought his musketoon under his right 
arm, ready for use, if occasion should require it. In 
every thing but numbers, he had the advantage of 
those who seemed inclined to interrupt his passage. 

The leader of the party was, indeed, well mounted 
and clad in a buff coat, richly embroidered, the 
half-military dress of the period ; hut his domestics 
had only coarse jackets of thick felt, which could 
scarce be expected to turn the edge of a sword, if 
wielded by a strong man ; and none of them had 
any weapons, save swords and pistols, without 
which gentlemen, or their attendants, during those 
disturbed times, seldom stirred abroad. 

When they had stood at gaze for about a minute, 
the younger gentleman gave the challenge which 
was then common in the mouth of all strangers 
who met in such circumstances — “For whom are 
you ? ” 

“ Tell me first/’ answered the soldier, “ for whom 
are you ? — the strongest party should speak first.” 

“We are for God and King Charles,” answered 
the first speaker. — “ Now tell your faction, you know 
ours.” 

“ I am for God and my standard,” answered the 
single horseman. 

“ And for which standard ? ” replied the chief of 
the other party — “ Cavalier or Roundhead, King or 
Convention ? ” 


14 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“By my troth, sir/’ answered the soldier, “I would 
be loath to reply to you with an untruth, as a thing 
unbecoming a cavalier of fortune and a soldier. 
But to answer your query with beseeming veracity, 
it is necessary I should myself have resolved to 
whilk of the present divisions of the kingdom I 
shall ultimately adhere, being a matter whereon my 
mind is not as yet preceesely ascertained.” 

“ I should have thought,” answered the gentle- 
man, “ that, when loyalty and religion are at stake, 
no gentleman or man of honour could be long in 
choosing his party.” 

“ Truly, sir,” replied the trooper, “ if ye speak this 
in the way of vituperation, as meaning to impugn my 
honour or genteelity, I would blithely put the same 
to issue, venturing in that quarrel with my single 
person against you three. But if you speak it in 
the way of logical ratiocination, whilk I have 
studied in my youth at the Mareschal-College of 
Aberdeen, I am ready to prove to ye logicS , that my 
resolution to defqr, for a certain season, the taking 
upon me either of these quarrels, not only becometh 
me as a gentleman and a man of honour, but also as 
a person of sense and prudence, one imbued with 
humane letters in his early youth, and who, from 
thenceforward, has followed the wars under the 
banner of the invincible Gustavus, the Lion of the 
North, and under many other heroic leaders, both 
Lutheran and Calvinist, Papist and Arminian.” 

After exchanging a word or two with his domes- 
tics, the younger gentleman replied, “ I should be 
glad, sir, to have some conversation with you upon 
so interesting a question, and should be proud if I 
can determine you in favour of the cause I have 
myself espoused. I ride this evening to a friend’s 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


15 


house not three miles distant, whither, if you choose 
to accompany me, you shall have good quarters for 
the night, and free permission to take your own 
road in the morning, if you then feel no inclination 
to join with us.” 

“ Whose word am I to take for this ? ” answered 
the cautious soldier — “ A man must know his 
guarantee, or he may fall into an ambuscade.” 

“ I am called,” answered the younger stranger, 
“ the Earl of Menteith, and, I trust, you will receive 
my honour as a sufficient security.” 

“A worthy nobleman,” answered the soldier, 
“ whose parole is not to be doubted.” With one 
motion he replaced his musketoon at his back, and 
with another made his military salute to the young 
nobleman, and continuing to talk as he rode forward 
to join him — “ And, I trust,” said he, “ my own 
assurance, that I will be bon camarado to your lord- 
ship in peace or in peril, during the time we shall 
abide together, will not be altogether vilipended in 
these doubtful times, when, as they say, a man’s head 
is safer in a steel-cap than in a marble palace.” 

“ I assure you, sir,” said Lord Menteith, “ that to 
judge from your appearance, I most highly value the 
advantage of your escort ; but, I trust, we shall have 
no occasion for any exercise of valour, as I expect to 
conduct you to good and friendly quarters.” 

“ Good quarters, my lord,” replied the soldier, 
“are always acceptable, and are only to be post- 
poned to good pay or good booty, — not to mention 
the honour of a cavalier, or the needful points of 
commanded duty. And truly, my lord, your noble 
proffer is not the less welcome, in that I knew not 
preceesely this night where I and my poor compan- 
ion ” (patting his horse) “ were to find lodgments.” 


i6 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ May I be permitted to ask, then,” said Lord 
Menteith, “to whom I have the good fortune to 
stand quarter-master ? ” 

“Truly, my lord,” said the trooper, “my name is 
Dalgetty — Dugald Dalgetty, Ritt-master Dugald 
Dalgetty of Drumthwacket, at your honourable 
service to command. It is a name you may have 
seen in Gallo Belgicus , the Swedish Intelligencer , 
or, if you read High Dutch, in the Fliegenden Mer- 
coeur of Leipsic. My father, my lord, having by 
unthrifty courses reduced a fair patrimony to a non- 
entity, I had no better shift, when I was eighteen 
years auld, than to carry the learning whilk I had 
acquired at the Mareschal-College of Aberdeen, my 
gentle bluid and designation of Drumthwacket, to- 
gether with a pair of stalwarth arms, and legs con- 
form, to the German wars, there to push my way as 
a cavalier of fortune. My lord, my legs and arms 
stood me in more stead than either my gentle kin 
or my book-lear, and I found' myself trailing a pike 
as a private gentleman under old Sir Ludovick Les- 
lie, where I learned the rules of service so tightly, 
that I will not forget them in a hurry. Sir, I have 
been made to stand guard eight hours, being from 
twelve at noon to eight o’clock of the night, at the 
palace, armed with back and breast, head-piece and 
bracelets, being iron to the teeth, in a bitter frost, 
and the ice was as hard as ever was flint ; and all 
for stopping an instant to speak to my landlady, 
when I should have gone to roll-call.” 

“ And, doubtless, sir,” replied Lord Menteith, “ you 
have gone through some hot service, as well as this 
same cold duty you talk of ? ” 

“ Surely, my lord, it doth not become me to speak ; 
but he that hath seen the fields of Leipsic and of 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


17 


Lutzen, may be said to have seen pitched battles. 
And one who hath witnessed the in taking of Frank- 
fort, and Spanheim, and Nuremberg, and so forth, 
should know somewhat about leaguers, storms, on- 
slaughts and outfalls.” 

“ But your merit, sir, and experience, were doubt- 
less followed by promotion ? ” 

“ It came slow, my lord, dooms slow,” replied Dal- 
getty ; “ but as my Scottish countrymen, the fathers 
of the war, and the raisers of those valorous Scottish 
regiments that were the dread of Germany, began to 
fall pretty thick, what with pestilence and what 
with the sword, why we, their children, succeeded to 
their inheritance. Sir, I was six years first private 
gentleman of the company, and three years lance 
speisade ; disdaining to receive a halbert, as unbe- 
coming my birth. Wherefore I was ultimately pro- 
moted to be a fahn-dragger, as the High Dutch call 
it, (which signifies an ancient,) in the King’s Leif 
Regiment of Black -Horse, and thereafter I arose to 
be lieutenant and ritt-master, under that invincible 
monarch, the bulwark of the Protestant faith, the 
Lion of the North, the terror of Austria, Gustavus 
the Victorious.” 

“ And yet, if I understand you, Captain Dalgetty, 
— I think that rank corresponds with your foreign 
title of ritt-master ” 

“ The same grade preceesely,” answered Dalgetty ; 
“ ritt-master signifying literally file-leader.” 

“ I was observing,” continued Lord Menteith, 
“ that, if I understood you right, you had left the 
service of this great Prince.” 

“ It was after his death — it was after his death, 
sir,” said Dalgetty, “ when I was in no shape bound 
to continue mine adherence. There are things, my 
2 


i8 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


lord, in that service, that cannot but go against the 
stomach of any cavalier of honour. In special, al- 
beit the pay be none of the most superabundant, be- 
ing only about sixty dollars a-month to a ritt-master, 
yet the invincible Gustavus never paid above one- 
third of that sum, whilk was distributed monthly 
by way of loan ; although, when justly considered, 
it was, in fact, a borrowing by that great monarch 
of the additional two-thirds which were due to the 
soldier. And I have seen some whole regiments of 
Dutch and Holsteiners mutiny on the field of battle, 
like base scullions, crying out Gelt, gelt, signifying 
their desire of pay, instead of falling to blows like 
our noble Scottish blades, who ever disdained, my 
lord, postponing of honour to filthy lucre.” 

“ But were not these arrears,” said Lord Menteith, 
“ paid to the soldiery at some stated period ? ” 

“ My lord,” said Dalgetty, “ I take it on my con- 
science, that at no period, and by no possible process, 
could one creutzer of them ever be recovered. I 
myself never saw twenty dollars of my own all the 
time I served the invincible Gustavus, unless it was 
from the chance of a storm or victory, or the fetch- 
ing in some town or doorp, when a cavalier of for- 
tune, who knows the usage of wars, seldom faileth 
to make some small profit.” 

“ I begin rather to wonder, sir,” said Lord Men- 
teith, “ that you should have continued so long in 
the Swedish service, than that you should have ulti- 
mately withdrawn from it.” 

“Neither I should,” answered the Ritt-master; 
“ but that great leader, captain, and king, the Lion of 
the North, and the bulwark of the Protestant faith, 
had a way of winning battles, taking towns, over-run- 
ning countries, and levying contributions, whilk made 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


19 


his service irresistibly delectable to all true-bred cav- 
aliers who follow the noble profession of arms. 
Simple as I ride here, my lord, I have myself com- 
manded the whole stift of Dunklespiel on the Lower 
Rhine, occupying the Palsgrave’s palace, consuming 
his choice wines with my comrades, calling in contri- 
butions, requisitions, and caduacs, and not failing to 
lick my fingers, as became a good cook. But truly 
all this glory hastened to decay, after our great mas- 
ter had been shot with three bullets on the field of 
Lutzen ; wherefore, finding that Fortune had changed 
sides, that the borrowings and lendings went on as 
before out of our pay, while the caduacs and casual- 
ties were all cut off, I e’en gave up my commission, 
and took service with Wallenstein, in Walter But- 
ler’s Irish regiment.” 

“ And may I beg to know of you,” said Lord Men- 
teith, apparently interested in the adventures of this 
soldier of fortune, “how you liked this change of 
masters ? ” 

“ Indifferent well,” said the Captain — “ very in- 
different well. I cannot say that the Emperor paid 
much better than the great Gustavus. For hard 
knocks, we had plenty of them. I was often obliged 
to run my head against my old acquaintances, the 
Swedish feathers, whilk your honour must conceive 
to be double-pointed stakes, shod with iron at each 
end, and planted before the squad of pikes to pre- 
vent an onfall of the cavalry. The whilk Swedish 
feathers, although they look gay to the eye, resem- 
bling the shrubs or lesser trees of ane forest, as the 
puissant pikes, arranged in battalia behind them, 
correspond to the tall pines thereof, yet, neverthe- 
less, are not altogether so soft to encounter as the 
plumage of a goose. Howbeit, in despite of heavy 


20 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


blows and light pay, a cavalier of fortune may thrive 
indifferently well in the Imperial service, in respect 
his private casualties are nothing so closely looked to 
as by the Swede ; and so that an officer did his duty 
on the field, neither Wallenstein nor Pappenheim, 
nor old Tilly before them, would likely listen to the 
objurgations of boors or burghers against any com- 
mander or soldado, by whom they chanced to be 
somewhat closely shorn. So that an experienced 
cavalier, knowing how to lay, as our Scottish phrase 
runs, ‘ the head of the sow to the tail of the grice,’ 
might get out of the country the pay whilk he could 
not obtain from the Emperor.” 

“ With a full hand, sir, doubtless, and with inter- 
est,” said Lord Menteith. 

“ Indubitably, my lord," answered Dalgetty, com- 
posedly ; “ for it would be doubly disgraceful for any 
soldado of rank to have his name called in question 
for any petty delinquency.” 

“ And pray, sir,” continued Lord Menteith, “ what 
made you leave so gainful a service ? ” 

“ Why, truly, sir,” answered the soldier, “ an Irish 
cavalier, called O’Quilligan, being major of our regi- 
ment, and I having had words with him the night 
before, respecting the worth and precedence of our 
several nations, it pleased him the next day to de- 
liver his orders to me with the point of his batoon 
advanced and held aloof, instead of declining and 
trailing the same, as is the fashion from a cour- 
teous commanding officer towards his equal in rank, 
though, it may be, his inferior in military grade. 
Upon this quarrel, sir, we fought in private ren- 
contre ; and as, in the perquisitions which followed, 
it pleased Walter Butler, our oberst, or colonel, to 
give the lighter punishment to his countryman, and 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


21 


the heavier to me, whereupon, ill-stomaching such 
partiality, I exchanged my commission for one 
under the Spaniard.” 

“ I hope you found yourself better off by the 
change?” said Lord Menteith. 

“ In good sooth,” answered the Ritt-m aster, “ I 
had but little to complain of. The pay was some- 
what regular, being furnished by the rich Flemings 
and Waloons of the Low Country. The quarters 
were excellent; the good wheaten loaves of the 
Flemings were better than the Provant rye-bread 
of the Swede, and Rhenish wine was more plenty 
with us than ever I saw the black-beer of Rostock 
in Gustavus’s camp. Service there was none, duty 
there was little; and that little we might do, or 
leave undone, at our pleasure ; an excellent retire- 
ment for a cavalier somewhat weary of field and 
leaguer, who had purchased with his blood as much 
honour as might serve his turn, and was desirous 
of a little ease and good living.” 

“And may I ask,” said Lord Menteith, “why 
you, Captain, being, as I suppose, in the situation 
you describe, retired from the Spanish service 
also?” 

“ You are to consider, my lord, that your Span- 
iard,” replied Captain Dalgetty, “is a person al- 
together unparalleled in his own conceit, where- 
through he maketh not fit account of such foreign 
cavaliers of valour as are pleased to take service 
with him. And a galling thing it is to every hon- 
ourable soldado, to be put aside, and postponed, 
and obliged to yield preference to every puffing 
signor, who, were it the question which should first 
mount a breach at push of pike, might be apt to 
yield willing place to a Scottish cavalier. More- 


22 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


over, sir, I was pricked in conscience respecting a 
matter of religion.” 

“ I should not have thought, Captain Dalgetty,” 
said the young nobleman, “ that an old soldier, who 
had changed service so often, would have been too 
scrupulous on that head.” 

“No more I am, my lord,” said the Captain, 
“ since I hold it to be the duty of the chaplain of 
the regiment to settle those matters for me, and 
every other brave cavalier, inasmuch as he does 
nothing else that I know of for his pay and allow- 
ances. But this was a particular case, my lord, a 
casus improvisus, as I may say, in whilk I had no 
chaplain of my own persuasion to act as my ad- 
viser. I found, in short, that although my being 
a Protestant might be winked at, in respect that I 
was a man of action, and had more experience than 
all the Dons in our tertia put together, yet, when 
in garrison, it - was expected I should go to mass 
with the regiment. Now, my lord, as a true Scot- 
tish man, and educated at the Mareschal-College of 
Aberdeen, I was bound to uphold the mass to be 
an act of blinded papistry and utter idolatry, whilk 
I was altogether unwilling to homologate by my 
presence. True it is, that I consulted on the point 
with a worthy countryman of my own, one Father 
Fatsides,of the Scottish Convent in Wurtzburg ” 

“ And I hope,” observed Lord Menteith, “ you 
obtained a clear opinion from this same ghostly 
father ? ” 

“As clear as it could be,” replied Captain Dal- 
getty, “ considering we had drunk six flasks of 
Rhenish, and about two mutchkins of Kirchen- 
wasser. Father Fatsides informed me, that, as 
nearly as he could judge for a heretic like myself. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


23 


it signified not much whether I went to mass or 
not, seeing my eternal perdition was signed and 
sealed at any rate, in respect of my impenitent and 
obdurate perseverance in my damnable heresy. 
Being discouraged by this response, I applied to a 
Dutch pastor of the reformed church, who told me, 
he thought I might lawfully go to mass, in respect 
that the prophet permitted Naaman, a mighty man 
of valour, and an honourable cavalier of Syria, to 
follow his master into the house of Rimmon, a false 
god, or idol, to whom he had vowed service, and to 
bow down when the king was leaning upon his 
han$. But neither was this answer satisfactory to 
me, both because there was an unco difference be- 
tween an anointed King of Syria and our Spanish 
colonel, whom I could have blown away like the 
peeling of an ingan, and chiefly because I could not 
find the thing was required of me by any of the 
articles of war ; neither was I proffered any con- 
sideration, either in perquisite or pay, for the wrong 
I might thereby do to my conscience.” 

“ So you again changed your service ? ” said Lord 
Menteith. 

" In troth did I, my lord ; and after trying for a 
short while two or three other powers, I even took 
on for a time with their High Mightinesses the 
States of Holland.” 

“ And how did their service jump with your 
humour?” again demanded his companion. 

“ 0 ! my lord,” said the soldier, in a sort of 
enthusiasm, “ their behaviour on pay-day might be 
a pattern to all Europe — no borrowings, no lend- 
ings, no offsets, no arrears — all balanced and paid 
like a banker’s book. The quarters, too, are excel- 
lent, and the allowances unchallengeable ; but then, 


24 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


sir, they are a preceese, scrupulous people, and will 
allow nothing for peccadilloes. So that if a boor 
complains of a broken head, or a beer-seller of a 
broken can, or a daft wengh does but squeak loud 
enough to be heard above her breath, a soldier of 
honour shall be dragged, not before his own court- 
martial, who can best judge of and punish his 
demerits, but before a base mechanical burgo- 
master, who shall menace him with the rasp-house, 
the cord, and what not, as if he were one of their 
own mean, amphibious, twenty-breeched boors. So 
not being able to dwell longer among those ungrate- 
ful plebeians, who, although unable to defend them- 
selves by their proper strength, will nevertheless 
allow the noble foreign cavalier who engages with 
them nothing beyond his dry wages, which no 
honourable spirit will put in competition with a * 
liberal license and honourable countenance, I re- 
solved to leave the service of the Mynheers. And 
hearing at this time, to my exceeding satisfaction, 
that there is something to be doing this summer in 
my way in this my dear native country, I am come 
hither, as they say, like a beggar to a bridal, in 
order to give my loving countrymen the advantage 
of that experience which I have acquired in foreign 
parts. So your lordship has an outline of my brief 
story, excepting my deportment in those passages 
of action in the field, in leaguers, storms, and on- 
slaughts, whilk would be wearisome to narrate, and 
might, peradventure, better befit any other tongue 
than mine own.” 


CHAPTEE III. 


For pleas of right let statesmen vex their head, 

Battle’s my business, and my guerdon bread ; 

And, with the sworded Switzer, I can say, 

The best of causes is the best of pay. 

Donne. 

The difficulty and narrowness of the road had 
by this time become such as to interrupt the con- 
versation of the travellers, and Lord Menteith, 
reining back his horse, held a moment’s private con- 
versation with his domestics. The Captain, who 
now led the van of the party, after about a quarter 
of a mile’s slow and toilsome advance up a broken 
and rugged ascent, emerged into an upland valley, 
to which a mountain stream acted as a drain, and 
afforded sufficient room upon its greensward banks 
for the travellers to pursue their journey in a more 
social manner. 

Lord Menteith accordingly resumed the conver- 
sation, which had been interrupted by the difficul- 
ties of the way. “I should have thought,” said 
he to Captain Dalgetty, “ that a cavalier of your 
honourable mark, who hath so long followed the 
valiant King of Sweden, and entertains such a suit- 
able contempt for the base mechanical States of 
Holland, would not have hesitated to embrace the 
cause of King Charles, in preference to that of the 
low-born, roundheaded, canting knaves, who are 
in rebellion against his authority ? ” 


26 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“Ye speak reasonably, my lord,” said Dalgetty, 
“ and, cceteris paribus , I might be induced to see the 
matter in the same light. But, my lord, there is a 
southern proverb, — fine words butter no parsnips. 
I have heard enough since I came here, to satisfy 
me that a cavalier of honour is free to take any part 
in this civil embroilment whilk he may find most 
convenient for his own peculiar. Loyalty is your 
pass- word, my lord — Liberty, roars another chield 
from the other side of the strath — the King, shouts 
one war-cry — the Parliament, roars another — Mon- 
trose, for ever, cries Donald, waving his bonnet — 
Argyle and Leven, cries a south-country Saunders, 
vapouring with his hat and feather. Fight for the 
bishops, says a priest, with his gown and rochet — 
Stand stout for the Kirk, cries a minister, in a Gen- 
eva cap and band. — Good watchwords all — ex- 
cellent watchwords. Whilk cause is the best I 
cannot say. But sure am I, that I have fought 
knee-deep in blood many a day for one that was ten 
degrees worse than the worst of them all.” 

“And pray, Captain Dalgetty,” said his lord- 
ship, “ since the pretensions of both parties seem 
to you so equal, will you please to inform us 
by what circumstances your preference will be 
determined ? ” 

“Simply upon two considerations, my lord,” 
answered the soldier. “ Being, first, on which side 
my services would be in most honourable request ; 
— And, secondly, whilk is a corollary of the first, 
by whilk party they are likely to be most gratefully 
requited. And, to deal plainly with you, my lord, 
my opinion at present doth on both points rather 
incline to the side of the Parliament.” 

“Your reasons, if you please,” said Lord Men- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


27 


teith, “ and perhaps I may be able to meet them 
with some others which are more powerful.” 

“ Sir, I shall be amenable to reason,” said Cap- 
tain Dalgetty, “ supposing it addresses itself to my 
honour and my interest. Well, then, my lord, here 
is a sort of Highland host assembled, or expected 
to assemble, in these wild hills, in the King’s be- 
half. Now, sir, you know the nature of our High- 
landers. I will not deny them to be a people stout 
in body and valiant in heart, and courageous enough 
in their own wild way of fighting, which is as re- 
mote from the usages and discipline of war as ever 
was that of the ancient Scythians, or of the salvage 
Indians of America that now is. They havena sae 
mickle as a German whistle, or a drum, to beat a 
march, an alarm, a charge, a retreat, a reveille, or 
the tattoo, or any other point of war ; and their 
damnable skirlin’ pipes, whilk they themselves pre- 
tend to understand, are unintelligible to the ears 
of any cavaliero accustomed to civilized warfare. 
So that, were I undertaking to discipline such a 
breechless mob, it were impossible for me to be 
understood ; and if I were understood, judge ye, 
my lord, what chance I had of being obeyed among 
a band of half salvages, who are accustomed to pay 
to their own lairds and chiefs, allenarly, that re- 
spect and obedience whilk ought to be paid to com- 
missionate officers. If I were teaching them to form 
battalia by extracting the square root, that is, by 
forming your square battalion of equal number of 
men of rank and file, corresponding to the square 
root of the full number present, what return could 
I expect for communicating this golden secret of 
military tactic, except it may be a dirk in my wame, 
on placing some MAIister More, M‘Shemei or 


28 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Capperfae, in the flank or rear, when he claimed to 
be in the van ? — Truly, well saith holy writ, * if ye 
cast pearls before swine, they will turn again and 
rend ye.’ ” 

“ I believe, Anderson,” said Lord Menteith, look- 
ing back to one of his servants, for both were close 
behind him, “ you can assure this gentleman, we 
shall have more occasion for experienced officers, 
and be more disposed to profit by their instructions, 
than he seems to be aware of.” 

“ With your honour’s permission,” said Ander- 
son, respectfully raising his cap, “when we are 
joined by the Irish infantry, who are expected, and 
who should be landed in the West Highlands be- 
fore now, we shall have need of good soldiers to dis- 
cipline our levies.” 

“ And I should like well — very well, to be em- 
ployed in such service,” said Dalgetty ; “ the Irish 
are pretty fellows — very pretty fellows — I desire 
to see none better in the field. I once saw a bri- 
gade of Irish, at the taking of Frankfort upon the 
Oder, stand to it with sword and pike until they 
beat off the blue and yellow Swedish brigades, 
esteemed as stout as any that fought under the im- 
mortal Gustavus. And although stout Hepburn, 
valiant Lumsdale, courageous Monroe, with myself 
and other cavaliers, made entry elsewhere at point 
of pike, yet, had we all met with such opposition, 
we had returned with great loss and little profit. 
Wherefore these valiant Irishes, being all put to 
the sword, as is usual in such cases, (a) 1 did never- 
theless gain immortal praise and honour ; so that, 

1 See Editor’s Notes at the end of the Volume. Wherever 
a similar reference occurs, the reader will understand that the 
same direction applies. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


29 


for their sakes, I have always loved and honoured 
those of that nation next to my own country of 
Scotland.” 

“A command of Irish,” said Menteith, “ I think 
I could almost promise you, should you be disposed 
to embrace the royal cause.” 

“ And yet,” said Captain Dalgetty, “ my second 
and greatest difficulty remains behind ; for, although 
I hold it a mean and sordid thing for a soldado to 
have nothing in his mouth but pay and gelt, like 
the base cullions, the German lanz-knechts, whom 
I mentioned before ; and although I will maintain 
it with my sword, that honour is to be preferred 
before pay, free quarters, and arrears, yet, ex con- 
trario, a soldier’s pay being the counterpart of his 
engagement of service, it becomes a wise and con- 
siderate cavalier to consider what remuneration he 
is to receive for his service, and from what funds 
it is to be paid. And truly, my lord, from what I 
can see and hear, the Convention are the purse- 
masters. The Highlanders, indeed, may be kept in 
humour, by allowing them to steal cattle ; and for 
the Irishes, your lordship and your noble associates 
may, according to the practice of the wars in such 
cases, pay them as seldom or as little as may suit 
your pleasure or convenience ; but the same mode 
of treatment doth not apply to a cavalier like me, 
who must keep up his horses, servants, arms, and 
equipage, and who neither can, nor will, go to war- 
fare upon his own charges.” 

Anderson, the domestic who had before spoken 
now respectfully addressed his master. — “I think, 
my lord,” he said, “that, under your lordship’s 
favour, I could say something to remove Captain 
Dalgetty’s second objection also. He asks us where 


30 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


we are to collect our pay ; now, in my poor mind, 
the resources are as open to us as to the Covenant- 
ers. They tax the country according to their plea- 
sure, and dilapidate the estates of the King’s 
friends ; now, were we once in the Lowlands, with 
our Highlanders and our Irish at our backs, and 
our swords in our hands, we can find many a fat 
traitor, whose ill-gotten wealth shall fill our mili- 
tary chest and satisfy our soldiery. Besides, 
confiscations will fall in thick ; and, in giving dona- 
tions of forfeited lands to every adventurous cava- 
lier who joins his standard, the King will at once 
reward his friends and punish his enemies. In short, 
he that joins these Roundhead dogs may get some 
miserable pittance of pay — he that joins our stand- 
ard has a chance to be knight, lord, or earl, if luck 
serve him.” 

“Have you ever served, my good friend?” said 
the Captain to the spokesman. 

“A little, sir, in these our domestic quarrels,” 
answered the man, modestly. 

“ But never in Germany or the Low Countries ? ” 
said Dalgetty. 

“ I never had the honour,” answered Anderson. 

“ I profess,” said Dalgetty, addressing Lord 
Menteith, “ your lordship’s servant has a sensible, 
natural, pretty idea of military matters ; some- 
what irregular, though, and smells a little too much 
of selling the bear’s skin before he has hunted 
him. — I will take the matter, however, into my 
consideration.” 

“ Do so, Captain,” said Lord Menteith ; “ you 
will have the night to think of it, for we are now 
near the house, where I hope to ensure you a hos- 
pitable reception.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


3i 


“ And that is what will be very welcome,” said 
the Captain, “ for I have tasted no food since day- 
break but a farl of oat-cake, which I divided with 
my horse. So I have been fain to draw my sword- 
belt three bores tighter for very extenuation, lest 
hunger and heavy iron should made the gird slip.” 


CHAPTER IY. 


Once on a time, no matter when, 

Some Glunimies met in a glen ; 

As deft and tight as ever wore 
A durk, a targe, and a claymore, 

Short hose, and belted plaid or trews, 

In Uist, Lochaber, Skye, or Lewes, 

Or cover’d hard head with his bonnet ; 

Had you but known them, you would own it. 

Meston.(^) 

A hill was now before the travellers, covered 
with an ancient forest of Scottish firs, the topmost 
of which, flinging their scathed branches across the 
western horizon, gleamed ruddy in the setting sun. 
In the centre of this wood rose the towers, or rather 
the chimneys, of the house, or castle, as it was 
called, destined for the end of their journey. 

As usual at that period, one or two high-ridged 
narrow buildings, intersecting and crossing each 
other, formed the corps de logis. A projecting bar- 
tizan or two, with the addition of small turrets at 
the angles, much resembling pepper-boxes, had pro- 
cured for Darnlinvarach the dignified appellation 
of a castle. It was surrounded by a ldw court-yard 
wall, within which were the usual offices. 

As the travellers approached more nearly, they 
discovered marks of recent additions to the de- 
fences of the place, which had been suggested, doubt- 
less, by the insecurity of those troublesome times. 
Additional loop-holes for musketry were struck out 
in different parts of the building, and of its sur- 





















\ 






# 


l 






t 













r 


» 































A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


33 


rounding wall. The windows had just been care- 
fully secured by stancheons of iron, crossing each 
other athwart and end-long, like the grates of a 
prison. The door of the court-yard was shut ; and 
it was only after cautious challenge that one of its 
leaves was opened by two domestics, both strong 
Highlanders, and both under arms, like Bitias and 
Pandarus in the JEneid, ready to defend the en- 
trance if aught hostile had ventured an intrusion. 

When the travellers were admitted into the 
court, they found additional preparations for de- 
fence. The walls were scaffolded for the use of 
fire-arms, and one or two of the small guns, called 
sackers, or falcons, were mounted at the angles and 
flanking turrets. 

More domestics, both in the Highland and Low- 
land dress, instantly rushed from the interior of the 
mansion, and some hastened to take the horses of 
the strangers, while others waited to marshal them 
a way into the dwelling-house. But Captain Dal- 
getty refused the proffered assistance of those who 
wished to relieve him of the charge of his horse. 
“ It is my custom, my friends, to see Gustavus (for 
so I have called him, after my invincible master) 
accommodated myself ; we are old friends and fel- 
low-travellers, and as I often need the use of his 
legs, I aMays lend him in my turn the service of 
my tongue, to call for whatever he has occasion 
for ; ” and accordingly he strode into the stable af- 
ter his steed without farther apology. 

Neither Lord Menteith nor his attendants paid 
the same attention to their horses, but, leaving them 
to the proffered care of the servants of the place, 
walked forward into the house, where a sort of dark 
vaulted vestibule displayed, among other miscel- 


34 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


laneous articles, a huge barrel of two-penny ale, 
beside which were ranged two or three wooden 
queichs, or bickers, ready, it would appear, for the 
service of whoever thought proper to employ them. 
Lord Menteith applied himself to the spigot, drank 
without ceremony, and then handed the stoup to 
Anderson, who followed his master’s example, but 
not until he had flung out the drop of ale which 
remained, and slightly rinsed the wooden cup. 

“ What the deil, man,” said an old Highland 
servant belonging to the family, “ can she no drink 
after her ain master without washing the cup and 
spilling the ale, and be tamned to her ! ” 

“ I was bred in France,” answered Anderson, 
“ where nobody drinks after another out of the same 
cup, unless it be after a young lady.” 

“ The teil’s in their nicety ! ” said Donald ; “ and 
if the ale be gude, fat the waur is’t that another 
man’s beard’s been in the queich before ye ? ” 

Anderson’s companion drank without observing 
the ceremony which had given Donald so much 
offence, and both of them followed their master 
into the low-arched stone hall, which was the com- 
mon rendezvous of a Highland family. A large 
fire of peats in the huge chimney at the upper end 
shed a dim light through the apartment, and was 
rendered necessary by the damp, by which, even 
during the summer, the apartment was rendered 
uncomfortable. Twenty or thirty targets, as many 
claymores, with dirks, and plaids, and guns, both 
match-lock and fire-lock, and long-bows, and cross- 
bows, and Lochaber axes, and coats of plate arm- 
our, and steel bonnets, and head-pieces, and the 
more ancient habergeons, or shirts of reticulated 
mail, with hood and sleeves corresponding to it, 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


35 


all hung in confusion about the walls, and would 
have formed a month’s amusement to a member of 
a modern antiquarian society. But such things 
were too familiar, to attract much observation on 
the part of the present spectators. 

There was a large clumsy oaken table, which the 
hasty hospitality of the domestic who had before 
spoken, immediately spread with milk, butter, goat- 
milk cheese, a flagon of beer, and a flask of usquebae, 
designed for the refreshment of Lord Menteith ; 
while an inferior servant made similar preparations 
at the bottom of the table for the benefit of his at- 
tendants. The space which intervened between 
them was, according to the manners of the times, 
sufficient distinction between master and servant, 
even though the former was, as in the present in- 
stance, of high rank. Meanwhile the guests stood 
by the fire — the young nobleman under the chim- 
ney, and his servants at some little distance. 

“ What do you think, Anderson,” said the for- 
mer, “ of our fellow-traveller ? ” • 

“ A stout fellow,” replied Anderson, “ if all be 
good that is upcome. I wish we had twenty such, 
to put our Teagues into some sort of discipline.” 

“I differ from you, Anderson,” said Lord Men- 
teith ; “ I think this fellow Dalgetty is one of those 
horse-leeches, whose appetite for blood being only 
sharpened by what he has sucked in foreign coun- 
tries, he is now returned to batten upon that of 
his own. Shame on the pack of these mercenary 
swordsmen ! they have made the name of Scot 
through all Europe equivalent to that of a pitiful 
mercenary, who knows neither honour nor princi- 
ple but his month’s pay, who transfers his alle- 
giance from standard to standard, at the pleasure of 


36 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


fortune or the highest bidder ; and to whose insa- 
tiable thirst for plunder and warm quarters we owe 
much of that civil dissension which is now turn- 
ing our swords against our own bowels. I had 
scarce patience with the hired gladiator, and yet 
could hardly help laughing at the extremity of his 
impudence.” 

“ Your lordship will forgive me,” said Anderson, 
“if I recommend to you, in the present circum- 
stances, to conceal at least a part of this generous 
indignation ; we cannot, unfortunately, do our work 
without the assistance of those who act on baser 
motives than our own. We cannot spare the as- 
sistance of such fellows as our friend the soldado. 
To use the canting phrase of the saints in the Eng- 
lish Parliament, the sons of Zeruiah are still too 
many for us.” 

“ I must dissemble, then, as well as I can,” said 
Lord Menteith, “ as I have hitherto done, upon 
your hint. But I wish the fellow at the devil with 
all my heart.” 

“Ay, but still you must remember, my lord,” 
resumed Anderson, “ that to cure the bite of a 
scorpion, you must crush another scorpion on the 
wound — But stop, we shall be overheard.” 

From a side-door in the hall glided a Highlander 
into the apartment, whose lofty stature and com- 
plete equipment, as well as the eagle’s feather in 
his bonnet, and the confidence of his demeanour, 
announced to be a person of superior rank. He 
walked slowly up to the table, and made no answer 
to Lord Menteith, who, addressing him by the 
name of Allan, asked him how he did. 

“ Ye manna speak to her e’en now,” whispered 
the old attendant. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


37 


The tall Highlander, sinking down upon the 
empty settle next the fire, fixed his eyes upon the 
red embers and the huge heap of turf, and seemed 
buried in profound abstraction. His dark eyes, and 
wild and enthusiastic features, bore the air of one 
who, deeply impressed with his own subjects of 
meditation, pays little attention to exterior objects. 
An air of gloomy severity, the fruit perhaps of 
ascetic and solitary habits, might, in a Lowlander, 
have been ascribed to religious fanaticism ; but by 
that disease of the mind, then so common both in 
England and the Lowlands of Scotland, the High- 
landers of this period were rarely infected. They had, 
however, their own peculiar superstitions, which 
overclouded the mind with thick-coming fancies, as 
completely as the puritanism of their neighbours. 

“ His lordship’s honour,” said the Highland ser- 
vant, sideling up to Lord Menteith, and speaking 
in a very low tone, “ his lordship manna speak to 
Allan even now, for the cloud is upon his mind.” 

Lord Menteith nodded, and took no farther no- 
tice of the reserved mountaineer. 

“ Said I not,” asked the latter, suddenly raising 
his stately person upright, and looking at the do- 
mestic — “ said I not that four were to come, and 
here stand but three on the hall floor?” 

“ In troth did ye say sae, Allan,” said the old 
Highlander, “and here’s the fourth man coming 
clinking in at the yett e’en now from the stable, for 
lie’s shelled like a partan, wi’ airn on back and 
breast, haunch and shanks. And am I to set her 
chair up near the Menteith’s, or down wi’ the hon- 
est gentlemen at the foot of the table ? ” 

Lord Menteith himself answered the enquiry, by 
pointing to a seat beside his own. 


38 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“And here she comes,” said Donald, as Captain 
Dalgetty entered the hall ; “ and I hope gentlemens 
will all take bread and cheese, as we say in the 
glens, until better meat be ready, until the Tier- 
nach comes back frae the hill wi’ the southern gen- 
tlefolk, and then Dugald Cook will show himself 
wi’ his kid and hill venison.” 

In the meantime, Captain Dalgetty had entered 
the apartment, and, walking up to the seat placed 
next Lord Menteith, was leaning on the back of it 
with his arms folded. Anderson and his compan- 
ion waited at the bottom of the table, in a respect- 
ful attitude, until they should receive permission to 
seat themselves ; while three or four Highlanders, 
under the direction of old Donald, ran hither and 
thither to bring additional articles of food, or stood 
still to give attendance upon the guests. 

In the midst of these preparations, Allan sud- 
denly started up, and snatching a lamp from the 
hand of an attendant, held it close to Dalgetty’s 
face, while he perused his features with the most 
heedful and grave attention. 

“ By my honour,” said Dalgetty, half displeased, 
as, mysteriously shaking his head, Allan gave up 
the scrutiny — “I trow that lad and I will ken each 
other when we meet again.” 

Meanwhile Allan strode to the bottom of the 
table, and having, by the aid of his lamp, subjected 
Anderson and his companion to the same investi- 
gation, stood a moment as if in deep reflection ; 
then, touching his forehead, suddenly seized Ander- 
son by the arm, and before he could offer any 
effectual resistance, half led and half dragged him 
to the vacant seat at the upper end, and having 
made a mute intimation that he should there place 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


39 


himself, he hurried the soldado with the same un- 
ceremonious precipitation to the bottom of the table. 
The Captain, exceedingly incensed at this freedom, 
endeavoured ,to shake Allan from him with vio- 
lence ; but, powerful as he was, he proved in the 
struggle inferior to the gigantic mountaineer, who 
threw him off with such violence, that after reel- 
ing a few paces, he fell at full length, and the 
vaulted hall rang with the clash of his armour. 
When he arose, his first action was to draw his 
sword and to fly at Allan, who, with folded arms, 
seemed to await his onset with the most scornful 
indifference. Lord Menteith and his attendants 
interposed to preserve peace, while the Highland- 
ers, snatching weapons from the wall, seemed 
prompt to increase the broil. 

“ He is mad,” whispered Lord Menteith, “ he is 
perfectly mad; there is no purpose in quarrelling 
with him.” 

“ If your lordship is assured that he is non com- 
pos mentis ,” said Captain Dalgetty, “ the whilk his 
breeding and behaviour seem to testify, the matter 
must end here, seeing that a madman can neither 
give an affront, nor render honourable satisfaction. 
But, by my saul, if I had my provant and a bottle 
of Rhenish under my belt, I should have stood 
otherways up to him. And yet it’s a pity he 
should be sae weak in the intellectuals, being 
a strong proper man of body, fit to handle pike. 
morgenstern , 1 or any other military implement 
whatsoever.” 

1 This was a sort of club or mace, used in the earlier part of the 
seventeenth century in the defence of breaches and walls. When 
the Germans insulted a Scotch regiment then besieged in Trail- 
suud, saying they heard there was a ship come from Denmark to 


40 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Peace was thus restored, and the party seated 
themselves agreeably to their former arrangement, 
with which Allan, who had now returned to his 
settle by the fire, and seemed once more immersed 
in meditation, did not again interfere. Lord Men- 
teith, addressing the principal domestic, hastened 
to start some theme of conversation which might 
obliterate all recollection of the fray that had taken 
place. “The laird is at the hill then, Donald, I 
understand, and some English strangers with him ? ” 

“ At the hill he is, an it like your honour, and 
two Saxon calabaleros are with him sure eneugh ; 
and that is Sir Miles Musgrave and Christopher 
Hall, both from the Cumraik, as I think they call 
their country.” 

“ Hall and Musgrave ? ” said Lord Menteith, look- 
ing at his attendants, “ the very men that we wished 
to see.” 

“ Troth,” said Donald, “ an’ I wish I had never 
seen them between the een, for they’re come to 
herry us out o’ house and ha’.” 

“Why, Donald,” said Lord Menteith, “you did 
not use to be so churlish of your beef and ale ; 
southland though they be, they’ll scarce eat up all 
the cattle that’s going on the castle mains.” 

“ Teil care an they did,” said Donald, “ an that 
were the warst o’t, for we have a wheen canny 
trewsmen here that wadna let us want if there was 
a horned beast atween this and Perth. But this is 
a warse job — it’s nae less than a wager.” 

them laden with tobacco pipes, “ One of our soldiers/’ says Colonel 
Robert Munro, “showing them over the work a morgenstern, 
made of a large stock banded with iron, like the shaft of a hal- 
berd, with a round globe at the end with cross iron pikes, saith, 

‘ Here is one of the tobacco pipes, wherewith we will beat out your 
brains when you intend to storm us.’ ” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


4i 


“ A wager ! ” repeated Lord Menteith, with some 
surprise. 

“ Troth,” continued Donald, to the full as eager 
to tell his news as Lord Menteith was curious to 
hear them, “ as your lordship is a friend and kins- 
man o’ the house, an’ as ye’ll hear eneugh o’t in less 
than an hour, I may as weel tell ye mysell. Ye 
sail be pleased then to know, that when our Laird 
was up in England, where he gangs oftener than 
his friends can wish, he was biding at the house o’ 
this Sir Miles Musgrave, an’ there was putten on 
the table six candlesticks, that they tell me were 
twice as muckle as the candlesticks in Dunblane 
kirk, and neither airn, brass, nor tin, but a’ solid 
silver, nae less ; — up wi’ their English pride, has 
sae muckle, and kens sae little how to guide it ! 
Sae they began to jeer the Laird, that he saw nae sic 
graith in his ain poor country ; and the Laird, scorn- 
ing to hae his country put down without a word 
for its credit, swore, like a gude Scotsman, that he 
had mair candlesticks, and better candlesticks, in 
his ain castle at hame, than were ever lighted in a 
hall in Cumberland, an Cumberland be the name 0’ 
the country.” 

“That was patriotically said,” observed Lord 
Menteith. 

“ Fary true,” said Donald ; “ but her honour had 
better hae hauden her tongue ; for if ye say ony 
thing amang the Saxons that’s a wee by ordinar, 
they clink ye down for a wager as fast as a Low- 
land smith would hammer shoon on a Highland 
shelty. An’ so the Laird behoved either to gae 
back 0’ his word, or wager twa hunder merks ; and 
so he e’en took the wager, rather than be shamed wi’ 
the like o’ them. And now he’s like to get it to pay, 


42 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


and I’m thinking that’s what makes him sae swear 
to come hame at e’en.” 

“ Indeed,” said Lord Menteith, “ from my idea 
of your family plate, Donald, your master is certain 
to lose such a wager.” 

“ Your honour may swear that ; an’ where he’s 
to get the siller I kenna, although he borrowed out 
o’ twenty purses. I advised him to pit the twa 
Saxon gentlemen and their servants cannily into 
the pit o’ the tower till they gae up the bargain o’ 
free gude-will, but the Laird winna hear reason.” 

Allan here started up, strode forward, and in- 
terrupted the conversation, saying to the domestic 
in a voice like thunder, “ And how dared you to 
give my brother such dishonourable advice ? or 
how dare you to say he will lose this or any other 
wager which it is his pleasure to lay ? ” 

“ Troth, Allan M‘Aulay,” answered the old man, 
“ it’s no for my father’s son to gainsay what your 
father’s son thinks fit to say, an’ so the Laird may 
no doubt win his wager. A’ that I ken against it 
is, that the teil a candlestick, or ony thing like it, 
is in the house, except the auld airn branches that 
hae been here since Laird Kenneth’s time, and the 
tin sconces that your father gard be made by auld 
Willie Winkie the tinkler, mair be token that deil 
an unce of siller plate is about the house at a’, 
forby the lady’s auld posset dish, that wants the 
cover and ane o’ the lugs.” 

“ Peace, old man ! ” said Allan, fiercely ; “ and 
do you, gentlemen, if your refection is finished, 
leave this apartment clear; I must prepare it for 
the reception of these southern guests.” 

“Come away,” said the domestic, pulling Lord 
Menteith by the sleeve ; “ his hour is on him,” said 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


43 


he, looking towards Allan, “ and he will not he 
controlled.” 

They left the hall accordingly, Lord Menteith and 
the Captain being ushered one way by old Donald, 
and the two attendants conducted elsewhere by an- 
other Highlander. The former had scarcely reached 
a sort of withdrawing apartment ere they were 
joined by the lord of the mansion, Angus M‘Aulay 
by name, and his English guests. Great joy was ex- 
pressed by all parties, for Lord Menteith and the 
English gentlemen were well known to each other ; 
and on Lord Menteith’s introduction, Captain Dal- 
getty was well received by the Laird. But after 
the first burst of hospitable congratulation was over, 
Lord Menteith could observe that there was a shade 
of sadness on the brow of his Highland friend. 

“ You must have heard,” said Sir Christopher Hall, 
“that our fine undertaking in Cumberland is all 
blown up. The militia would not march into Scot- 
land, and your prick-ear’d Covenanters have been 
too hard for our friends in the southern shires. And 
so, understanding there is some stirring work here, 
Musgrave and I, rather than sit idle at home, are 
come to have a campaign among your kilts and 
plaids.” 

“ I hope you have brought arms, men, and money 
with you,” said Lord Menteith, smiling. 

“ Only some dozen or two of troopers, whom we 
left at the last Lowland village,” said Musgrave, 
“ and trouble enough we had to get them so far.” 

“ As for money,” said his companion, “ we expect 
a small supply from our friend and host here.” 

The Laird now, colouring highly, took Menteith 
a little apart, and expressed to him his regret that 
he had fallen into a foolish blunder. 


44 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“I heard it from Donald,” said Lord Menteith, 
scarce able to suppress a smile. 

“ Devil take that old man,” said M'Aulay, “he 
would tell everything, were it to cost one’s life ; but 
it’s no jesting matter to you neither, my lord, for I 
reckon on your friendly and fraternal benevolence, 
as a near kinsman of our house, to help me out with 
the money due to these pock-puddings ; or else, to 
be plain wi’ ye, the deil a M'Aulay will there be at 
the muster, for curse me if I do not turn Covenanter 
rather than face these fellows without paying them ; 
and, at the best, I shall be ill enough off, getting 
both the scaith and the scorn.” 

“ You may suppose, cousin,” said Lord Menteith, 
“ I am not too well equipt just now ; but you may be 
assured I shall endeavour to help you as well as I 
can, for the sake of old kindred, neighbourhood, and 
alliance.” 

“ Thank ye — thank ye — thank ye,” reiterated 
M'Aulay ; “ and as they are to spend the money in 
the King’s service, what signifies whether you, they, 
or I pay it ? — we are a’ one man’s bairns, I hope ? 
But you must help me out too with some reasonable 
excuse, or else I shall be for taking to Andrew Fer- 
rara; for I like not to be treated like a liar or a 
braggart at my own board-end, when, God knows, I 
only meant to support my honour, and that of my 
family and country.” 

Donald, as they were speaking, entered, with rather 
a blither face than he might have been expected 
to wear, considering the impending fate of his mas- 
ter’s purse and credit. “ Gentlemens, her dinner is 
ready, and her candles are lighted too” said Donald, 
with a strong guttural emphasis on the last clause 
of his speech. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


45 


“ What the devil can he mean ? ” said Musgrave, 
looking to his countryman. 

Lord Menteith put the same question with his 
eyes to the Laird, which M/Aulay answered by shak- 
ing his head. 

A short dispute about precedence somewhat de- 
layed their leaving the apartment. Lord Menteith 
insisted upon yielding up that which belonged to 
his rank, on consideration of his being in his own 
country, and of his near connexion with the family 
in which they found themselves. The two English 
strangers, therefore, were first ushered into the hall, 
where an unexpected display awaited them. The 
large oaken table was spread with substantial joints 
of meat, and seats were placed in order for the 
guests. Behind every seat stood a gigantic High- 
lander, completely dressed and armed after the fash- 
ion of his country, holding in his right hand his 
drawn sword, with the point turned downwards, and 
in the left a blazing torch made of the bogpine. 
This wood, found in the morasses, is so full of tur- 
pentine, 'that, when split and dried, it is frequently 
used in the Highlands instead of candles. The 
unexpected and somewhat startling apparition was 
seen by the red glare of the torches, which displayed 
the wild features, unusual dress, and glittering arms 
of those who bore them, while the smoke, eddying 
up to the roof of the hall, overcanopied them with a 
volume of vapour. Ere the strangers had recovered 
from their surprise, Allan stept forward, and point- 
ing with his sheathed broadsword to the torch-bear- 
ers, said, in a deep and stern tone of voice, “ Behold, 
gentlemen cavaliers, the chandeliers of my brother’s 
house, the ancient fashion of our ancient name ; not 
one of these men knows any law but their Chiefs 


4 6 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


command — Would you dare to compare to them in 
value the richest ore that ever was dug out of the 
mine? How say you, cavaliers? — is your wager 
won or lost ? ” 

“ Lost, lost,” said Musgrave, gaily — “ my own sil- 
ver candlesticks are all melted and riding on horse- 
back by this time, and I wish the fellows that en- 
listed were half as trusty as these. — Here, sir,” he 
added to the Chief, “ is your money ; it impairs Hall’s 
finances and mine somewhat, but debts of honour 
must be settled.” 

“My father’s curse upon my father’s son,” said 
Allan, interrupting him, “ if he receive from you one 
penny ! It is enough that you claim no right to ex- 
act from him what is his own.” 

Lord Menteith eagerly supported Allan’s opinion, 
and the elder M'Aulay readily joined, declaring the 
whole to be a fool’s business, and not worth speak- 
ing more about. The Englishmen, after some 
courteous opposition, were persuaded to regard the 
whole as a joke. 

“And now, Allan,” said the Laird, “please to re- 
move your candles ; for, since the Saxon gentlemen 
have seen them, they will eat their dinner as com- 
fortably by the light of the old tin sconces, without 
scomfishing them with so much smoke.” 

Accordingly, at a sign from Allan, the living chan- 
deliers, recovering their broadswords, and holding 
the point erect, marched out of the hall, and left 
the guests to enjoy their refreshment . 1 

1 Such a bet as that mentioned in the text is said to have been 
taken by MacDonald of Keppoch, who extricated himself in the 
manner there narrated. 


CHAPTER V. 


Thareby so fearlesse and so fell he grew, 

That his own syre and maister of his guise 
Did often tremble at his horrid view ; 

And if for dread of hurt would him advise, 

The angry beastes not rashly to despise, 

Nor too much to provoke ; for he would learne 
The lion stoup to him in lowly wise, 

(A lesson hard,) and make the libbard sterne 
Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne. 

Spenser. 

Notwithstanding the proverbial epicurism of the 
English, — proverbial, that is to say, in Scotland at 
the period, — the English visitors made no figure 
whatever at the entertainment, compared with the 
portentous voracity of Captain Dalgetty, although 
that gallant soldier had already displayed much 
steadiness and pertinacity in his attack upon the 
lighter refreshment set before them at their en- 
trance, by way of forlorn hope. He spoke to no 
one during the time of his meal ; and it was not 
until the victuals were nearly withdrawn from the 
table, that he gratified the rest of the company, who 
had watched him with some surprise, with an ac- 
count of the reasons why he ate so very fast and so 
very long. 

“ The former quality,” he said, “ he had acquired, 
while he filled a place at the bursar’s table at the 
Mareschal-College of Aberdeen ; when,” said he, “ if 
you did not move your jaws as fast as a pair of 


48 


TALES 0 E MY LANDLORD. 


castanets, you were very unlikely to get any thing 
to put between them. And as for the quantity of 
my food, be it known to this honourable company,” 
continued the Captain, “ that it’s the duty of every 
commander of a fortress, on all occasions which 
offer, to secure as much munition and vivers as 
their magazines can possibly hold, not knowing 
when they may have to sustain a siege or a blockade. 
Upon which principle, gentlemen,” said he, “ when 
a cavalier finds that provant is good and abundant, 
he will, in my estimation, do wisely to victual him- 
self for at least three days, as there is no knowing 
when he may come by another meal.” 

The Laird expressed his acquiescence in the pru- 
dence of this principle, and recommended to the 
veteran to add a tass of brandy and a flagon of 
claret to the substantial provisions he had already 
laid in, to which proposal the Captain readily 
agreed. 

When dinner was removed, and the servants had 
withdrawn, excepting the Laird’s page, or henchman, 
who remained in the apartment to call for or bring 
whatever was wanted, or, in a word, to answer the 
purposes of a modern bell-wire, the conversation 
began to turn upon politics, and the state of the 
country ; and Lord Menteith enquired anxiously 
and particularly what clans were expected to join 
the proposed muster of the King’s friends. 

“ That depends much, my lord, on the person who 
lifts the banner,” said the Laird ; “ for you know we 
Highlanders, when a few clans are assembled, are 
not easily commanded by one of our own Chiefs, or, 
to say the truth, by any other body. We have heard 
a rumour, indeed, that Colkitto — that is, young Col- 
kitto, or Alaster MDonald, is come over the Kyle 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


49 


from Ireland, with a body of the Earl of Antrim’s 
people, and that they had got as far as Ardnamur- 
chan. They might have been here before now, but, 
I suppose, they loitered to plunder the country as 
they came along.” 

“ Will Colkitto not serve you for a leader, then ? ” 
said Lord Menteith. 

“Colkitto!” said Allan M/Aulay, scornfully; “who 
talks of Colkitto ? — There lives but one man whom 
we will follow, and that is Montrose.” 

“But Montrose, sir,” said Sir Christopher Hall, 
“has not been heard of since our ineffectual attempt 
to rise in the north of England. It is thought he 
has returned to the King at Oxford for farther 
instructions.” 

“ Returned ! ” said Allan, with a scornful laugh ; 
“ I could tell ye, but it is not worth my while ; ye 
will know soon enough.” 

“ By my honour, Allan,” said Lord Menteith, “ you 
will weary out your friends with this intolerable, Ho- 
ward, and sullen humour — But I know the reason,” 
added he, laughing ; “ you have not seen Annot Lyle 
to-day.” 

“ Whom did you say I had not seen ? ” said Allan, 
sternly. 

“ Annot Lyle, the fairy queen of song and min- 
strelsy,” said Lord Menteith. 

“ Would to God I were never to see her again,” 
said Allan, sighing, “ on condition the same weird 
were laid on you ! ” 

“And why on me?” said Lord Menteith, care- 
lessly. 

“ Because,” said Allan, “ it is written on your fore- 
head, that you are to be the ruin of each other.” So 
saying, he rose up and left the room. 

4 


50 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“Has he been long in this way?” asked Lord 
Menteith, addressing his brother. 

“ About three days,” answered Angus ; “ the fit is 
wellnigh over, he will be better to-morrow. — But 
come, gentlemen, don’t let the tappit-hen scraugh 
to be emptied. The King’s health, King Charles’s 
health ! and may the covenanting dog that refuses 
it, go to Heaven by the road of the Grassmarket ! ” 

The health was quickly pledged, and as fast suc- 
ceeded by another, and another, and another, all of 
a party cast, and enforced in an earnest manner. 
Captain Dalgetty, however, thought it necessary to 
enter a protest. 

“Gentlemen cavaliers,” he said, “I drink these 
healths, primo, both out of respect to this honour- 
able and hospitable roof-tree, and, secundo, because I 
hold it not good to be preceese in such matters, inter 
pocula ; but I protest, agreeable to the warrandice 
granted by this honourable lord, that it shall be 
free to me, notwithstanding my present complais- 
ance, to take service with the Covenanters to-mor- 
row, providing I shall be so minded.” 

M/Aulay and his English guests stared at this 
declaration, which would have certainly bred new 
disturbance, if Lord Menteith had not taken up the 
affair, and explained the circumstances and con- 
ditions. “I trust,” he concluded, “we shall be able 
to secure Captain Dalgetty’s assistance to our own 
party.” 

“ And if not,” said the Laird, “ I protest, as the 
Captain says, that nothing that has passed this 
evening, not even his having eaten' my bread and 
salt, and pledged me in brandy, Bourdeaux, or 
usquebaugh, shall prejudice my cleaving him to 
the neckbone.” 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


Si 


“ You shall be heartily welcome,” said the Captain, 
“ providing my sword cannot keep my head, which it 
has done in worse dangers than your feud is likely 
to make for me.” 

Here Lord Menteith again interposed, and the 
concord of the company being with no small diffi- 
culty restored, was cemented by some deep carouses. 
Lord Menteith, however, contrived to break up the 
party earlier than was the usage of the Castle, under 
pretence of fatigue and indisposition. This was some- 
what to the disappointment of the valiant Captain, 
who, among other habits acquired in the Low coun- 
tries, had acquired both a disposition to drink, and 
a capacity to bear, an exorbitant quantity of strong 
liquors. 

Their landlord ushered them in person to a sort 
of sleeping gallery, in which there was a four-post 
bed, with tartan curtains, and a number of cribs, or 
long hampers, placed along the wall, three of which, 
well stuffed with blooming heather, were prepared 
for the reception of guests. 

“ I need not tell your lordship,” said M'Aulay 
to Lord Menteith, a little apart, “ our Highland 
mode of quartering. Only that, not liking you 
should sleep in the room alone with this German 
land-louper, I have caused your servants’ beds to 
be made here in the gallery. By G — d, my lord, 
these are times when men go to bed with a throat 
hale and sound as ever swallowed brandy, and 
before next morning it may be gaping like an 
oyster-shell. ” 

Lord Menteith thanked him sincerely, saying, 
“It was just the arrangement he would have re- 
quested ; for, although he had not the least appre- 
hension of violence from Captain Dalgetty, yet 


52 


TALES 0 E MY LANDLORD. 


Anderson was a better kind of person, a sort of 
gentleman, whom he always liked to have near his 
person.” 

“ I have not seen this Anderson,” said M'Aulay ; 
“ did you hire him in England ? ” 

“ I did so,” said Lord Menteith ; “ you will see 
the man to-morrow ; in the meantime I wish you 
good-night” 

His host left the apartment after the evening 
salutation, and was about to pay the same compli- 
ment to Captain Dalgetty, but observing him deeply 
engaged in the discussion of a huge pitcher filled 
with brandy posset, he thought it a pity to disturb 
him in so laudable an employment, and took his 
leave without farther ceremony. 

Lord Menteith’s two attendants entered the apart- 
ment almost immediately after his departure. The 
•good Captain, who was now somewhat encumbered 
with his good cheer, began to find the undoing of 
the clasps of his armour a task somewhat difficult, 
and addressed Anderson in these words, interrupted 
by a slight hiccup, — “ Anderson, my good friend, 
you may read in Scripture, that he that putteth 
off his armour should not boast himself like he that 
putteth it on — I believe that is not the right word 
of command; but the plain truth of it is, I am 
like to sleep in my corslet, like many an honest 
fellow that never waked again, unless you unloose 
this buckle.” 

“Undo his armour, Sibbald,” said Anderson to 
the other servant. 

“ By St. Andrew ! ” exclaimed the Captain, turn- 
ing round in great astonishment, “ here’s a common 
fellow — a stipendiary with four pounds a-year and 
a livery cloak, thinks himself too good to serve 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


53 


Ritt-master Dugald Dalgetty of Drumthwacket, who 
has studied humanity at the Mareschal-College of 
Aberdeen, and served half the princes of Europe ! ” 

“ Captain Dalgetty,” said Lord Menteith, whose 
lot it was to stand peacemaker throughout the 
evening, “ please to understand that Anderson waits 
upon no one but myself ; but I will help Sibbald to 
undo your corslet with much pleasure.” 

“ Too much trouble for you, my lord,” said Dal- 
getty ; “ and yet it would do you no harm to prac- 
tise how a handsome harness is put on and put off. 
I can step in and out of mine like a glove ; only 
to-night, although not ebrius , I am, in the classic 
phrase, vino ciboque gravatus.” 

By this time he was unshelled, and stood before 
the fire musing with a face of drunken wisdom on 
the events of the evening. What seemed chiefly 
to interest him, was the character of Allan M‘Au- 
lay. “To come over the Englishmen so cleverly 
with his Highland torch-bearers — eight bare- 
breeched Rories for six silver candlesticks ! — it 
was a master-piece — a tour de passe — it was per- 
fect legerdemain — and to be a madman after all ! — 
I doubt greatly, my lord,” (shaking his head,) “ that 
I must allow him, notwithstanding his relationship 
to your lordship, the privileges of a rational person, 
and either batoon him sufficiently to expiate the 
violence offered to my person, or else bring it to a 
matter of mortal arbitrament, as becometh an in- 
sulted cavalier.” 

“If you care to hear a long story,” said Lord 
Menteith, “ at this time of night, I can tell you how 
the circumstances of Allan’s birth account so well 
for his singular character, as to put such satisfac- 
tion entirely out of the question. ” 


54 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ A long story, my lord,” said Captain Dalgetty, 
“ is, next to a good evening draught and a warm 
nightcap, the best shoeing-horn for drawing on a 
sound sleep. And since your lordship is pleased 
to take the trouble to tell it, I shall rest your pa- 
tient and obliged auditor.” 

“ Anderson,” said Lord Menteith, “ and you, Sib- 
bald, are dying to hear, I suppose, of this strange 
man too ; and I believe I must indulge your curi- 
osity, that you may know how to behave to him 
in time of need. You had better step to the fire 
then.” 

Having thus assembled an audience about him, 
Lord Menteith sat down upon the edge of the 
four-post bed, while Captain Dalgetty, wiping the 
relics of the posset from his beard and mustachoes, 
and repeating the first verse of the Lutheran psalm, 
A lie guter geister loben den Herrn , &c. rolled him- 
self into one of the places of repose, and thrusting 
his shock pate from between the blankets, listened 
to Lord Menteith’s relation in a most luxurious 
state, between sleeping and waking. 

“ The father,” said Lord Menteith, “ of the two 
brothers, Angus and Allan MAulay, was a gentle- 
man of consideration and family, being the chief 
of a Highland clan, of good account, though not 
numerous; his lady, the mother of these young 
men, was a gentlewoman of good family, if I may 
be permitted to say so of one nearly connected with 
my own. Her brother, an honourable and spirited 
young man, obtained from James the Sixth a 
grant of forestry, and other privileges, over a royal 
chase adjacent to this castle ; and, in exercising 
and defending these rights, he was so unfortunate 
as to involve himself in a quarrel with some of our 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


55 


Highland freebooters or caterans, of whom I think, 
Captain Dalgetty, you must have heard.” 

“ And that I have,” said the Captain, exerting 
himself to answer the appeal. “ Before I left the 
Mareschal-College of Aberdeen, Dugald Garr was 
playing the devil in the Garioch, and the Farquhar- 
sons on Dee-side, and the- Clan Chattan on the 
Gordons’ lands, and the Grants and Camerons in 
Moray-land. And since that, I have seen the 
Cravats and Pandours in Pannonia and Transyl- 
vania, and the Cossacks from the Polish frontier, and 
robbers, banditti, and barbarians of all countries 
besides, so that I have a distinct idea of your broken 
Highlandmen.” 

“The clan,” said Lord Menteith, “with whom 
the maternal uncle of the M‘Aulays had been placed 
in feud, was a small sept of banditti, called, from 
their houseless state, and their incessantly wander- 
ing among the mountains and glens, the Children of 
the Mist. They are a fierce and hardy people, with 
all the irritability, and wild and vengeful passions, 
proper to men who have never known the restraint 
of civilized society. A party of them lay in wait 
for the unfortunate Warden of the Forest, surprised 
him while hunting alone and unattended, and slew 
him with every circumstance of inventive cruelty. 
They cut off his head, and resolved, in a bravado, 
to exhibit it at the castle of his brother-in-law. 
The laird was absent, and the lady reluctantly 
received as guests, men against whom, perhaps, she 
was afraid to shut her gates. Refreshments were 
placed before the Children of the Mist, who took 
an opportunity to take the head of their victim 
from the plaid in which it was wrapt, placed it on 
the table, put a piece of bread between the lifeless 


56 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


jaws, bidding them do their office now, since many 
a good meal they had eaten at that table. The 
lady, who had been absent for some household pur- 
pose, entered at this moment, and, upon beholding 
her brother’s head, fled like an arrow out of the 
house into the woods, uttering shriek upon shriek. 
The ruffians, satisfied with this savage triumph, 
withdrew. The terrified menials, after overcoming 
the alarm to which they had been subjected, sought 
their unfortunate mistress in every direction, but 
she was nowhere to be found. The miserable 
husband returned next day, and, with the assistance 
of his people, undertook a more anxious and dis- 
tant search, but to equally little purpose. It was 
believed universally, that, in the ecstasy of her 
terror, she must either have thrown herself over 
one of the numerous precipices which overhang the 
river, or into a deep lake about a mile from the 
castle. Her loss was the more lamented, as she was 
six months advanced in her pregnancy ; Angus 
M'Aulay, her eldest son, having been born about 
eighteen months before. — But I tire you, Captain 
Dalgetty, and you seem inclined to sleep.” 

“By no means,” answered the soldier; “I am 
no whit somnolent; I always hear best with my 
eyes shut. It is a fashion I learned when I stood 
sentinel.” 

“And I daresay,” said Lord Menteith, aside to 
Anderson, “ the weight of the halberd of the ser- 
geant of the rounds often made him open them.” 

Being apparently, however, in the humour of 
story-telling, the young nobleman went on, address- 
ing himself chiefly to his servants, without minding 
the slumbering veteran. 

“Every baron in the country,” said he, “now 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


57 


swore revenge for this dreadful crime. They took 
arms with the relations and brother-in-law of the 
murdered person, and the Children of the Mist 
were hunted down, I believe, with as little mercy 
as they had themselves manifested. Seventeen 
heads, the bloody trophies of their vengeance, were 
distributed among the allies, and fed the crows 
upon the gates of their castles. The survivors 
sought out more distant wildernesses, to which they 
retreated.” 

“ To your right hand, counter-march and retreat 
to your former ground,” said Captain Dalgetty; 
the military phrase having produced the corres- 
pondent word of command ; and then starting up, 
professed he had been profoundly attentive to every 
word that had been spoken. 

“ It is the custom in summer,” said Lord Men- 
teith, without attending to his apology, “ to send the 
cows to the upland pastures to have the benefit of 
the grass ; and the maids of the village, and of the 
family, go there to milk them in the morning and 
evening. While thus employed, the females of this 
family, to their great terror, perceived that their 
motions were watched at a distance by a pale, thin, 
meagre figure, bearing a strong resemblance to 
their deceased mistress, and passing, of course, for 
her apparition. When some of the boldest resolved 
to approach this faded form, it fled from them 
into the woods with a wild shriek. The husband, 
informed of this circumstance, came up to the glen 
with some attendants, and took his measures so 
well as to intercept the retreat of the unhappy 
fugitive, and to secure the person of his unfortunate 
lady, though her intellect proved to be totally 
deranged. How she supported herself during her 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


58 

wandering in the woods could not be known — 
some supposed she lived upon roots and wild- 
berries, with which the woods at that season 
abounded ; but the greater part of the vulgar were 
satisfied that she must have subsisted upon the 
milk of the wild does, or been nourished by the 
fairies, or supported in some manner equally mar- 
vellous. Her re-appearance was more easily ac- 
counted for. She had seen from the thicket the 
milking of the cows, to superintend which had 
been her favourite domestic employment, and the 
habit had prevailed even in her deranged state of 
mind. 

“ In due season the unfortunate lady was deliv- 
ered of a boy, who not only showed no appearance 
of having suffered from his mother’s calamities, but 
appeared to be an infant of uncommon health and 
strength. The unhappy mother, after her confine- 
ment, recovered her reason — at least in a great 
measure, but never her health and spirits. Allan 
was her only joy. Her attention to him was 
unremitting; and unquestionably she must have 
impressed upon his early mind many of those super- 
stitious ideas to which his moody and enthusiastic 
temper gave so ready a reception. She died when 
he was about ten years old. Her last words were 
spoken to him in private ; but there is little doubt 
that they conveyed an injunction of vengeance upon 
the Children of the Mist, with which he has since 
amply complied. 

“ From this moment, the habits of Allan M‘Au- 
lay were totally changed. He had hitherto been 
his mother’s constant companion, listening to her 
dreams, and repeating his own, and feeding his 
imagination, which, probably from the circumstances 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


59 


preceding his birth, was constitutionally deranged, 
with all the wild and terrible superstitions so com- 
mon to the mountaineers, to which his unfortu- 
nate mother had become much addicted since her 
brother’s death. By living in this manner, the boy 
had gotten a timid, wild, startled look, loved to seek 
out solitary places in the woods, and was never so 
much terrified as by the approach of children of 
the same age. I remember, although some years 
younger, being brought up here by my father upon 
a visit, nor can I forget the astonishment with which 
I saw this infant-hermit shun every attempt I made 
to engage him in the sports natural to our age. I 
can remember his father bewailing his disposition 
to mine, and alleging, at the same time, that it was 
impossible for him to take from his wife the com- 
pany of the boy, as he seemed to be the only con- 
solation that remained to her in this world, and as 
the amusement which Allan’s society afforded her 
seemed to prevent the recurrence, at least in its 
full force, of that fearful malady by which she had 
been visited. But, after the death of his mother, 
the habits and manners of the boy seemed at once 
to change. It is true he remained as thoughtful 
and serious as before ; and long fits of silence and 
abstraction showed plainly that his disposition, in 
this respect, was in no degree altered. But at 
other times, he sought out the rendezvous of the 
youth of the clan, which he had hitherto seemed 
anxious to avoid. He took share in all their exer- 
cises ; and, from his very extraordinary personal 
strength, soon excelled his brother and other youths, 
whose age considerably exceeded his own. They 
who had hitherto held him in contempt, now feared, 
if they did not love him ; and, instead of Allan’s 


6o 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


being esteemed a dreaming, womanish, and feeble- 
minded boy, those who encountered him in sports 
or military exercise, now complained that, when 
heated by the strife, he was too apt to turn game 
into earnest, and to forget that he was only engaged 
in a friendly trial of strength. — But I speak to 
regardless ears',” said Lord Menteith, interrupting 
himself, for the Captain’s nose now gave the most 
indisputable signs that he was fast locked in the 
arms of oblivion. 

“If you mean the ears of that snorting swine, 
my lord,” said Anderson, “ they are, indeed, shut 
to any thing that you can say; nevertheless, this 
place being unfit for more private conference, I hope 
you will have the goodness to proceed, for Sibbald’s 
benefit and for mine. The history of this poor 
young fellow has a dfcep and wild interest in it.” 

“You must know, then,” proceeded Lord Men- 
teith, “ that Allan continued to increase in strength 
and activity till his fifteenth year, about which time 
he assumed a total independence of character, and 
impatience of control, which much alarmed his sur- 
viving parent. He was absent in the woods for 
whole days and nights, under pretence of hunting, 
though he did not always bring home game. His 
father was the more alarmed, because several of 
the Children of the Mist, encouraged by the in- 
creasing troubles of the state, had ventured back to 
their old haunts, nor did he think it altogether safe 
to renew any attack upon them. The risk of Allan, 
in his wanderings, sustaining injury from these 
vindictive freebooters, was a perpetual source of 
apprehension. 

“ I was myself upon a visit to the castle when 
this matter was brought to a crisis. Allan had been 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


61 


absent since daybreak in the woods, where I had 
sought for him in vain ; it was a dark stormy night, 
and he did not return. His father expressed the 
utmost anxiety, and spoke of detaching a party at 
the dawn of morning in quest of him ; when, as we 
were sitting at the supper-table, the door suddenly 
opened, and Allan entered the room with a proud, 
firm, and confident air. His intractability of tem- 
per, as well as the unsettled state of his mind, had 
such an influence over his father, that he suppressed 
all other tokens of displeasure, excepting the obser- 
vation that I had killed a fat buck, and had returned 
before sunset, while he supposed Allan, who had 
been on the hill till midnight, had returned with 
empty hands. * Are you sure of that ? * said Allan, 
fiercely ; ‘ here is something will tell you another 
tale. ’ 

“We now observed his hands were bloody, and 
that there were spots of blood on his face, and 
waited the issue with impatience ; when suddenly, 
undoing the corner of his plaid, he rolled down on 
the table a human head, bloody and new severed, 
saying at the same time, ‘ Lie thou where the head 
of a better man lay before ye.’ From the haggard 
features, and matted red hair and beard, partly 
grizzled with age, his father and others present re- 
cognised the head of Hector of the Mist, a well- 
known leader among the outlaws, redoubted for 
strength and ferocity, who had been active in the 
murder of the unfortunate Forester, uncle to Allan, 
and had escaped by a desperate defence and extra- 
ordinary agility, when so many of his companions 
were destroyed. We were all, it may be believed, 
struck with surprise, but Allan refused to gratify our 
curiosity ; and we only conjectured that he must have 


62 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


overcome the outlaw after a desperate struggle, 
because we discovered that he had sustained seve- 
ral wounds from the contest. All measures were 
now taken to ensure him against the vengeance of 
the freebooters; but neither his wounds, nor the 
positive command of his father, nor even the lock- 
ing of the gates of the castle and the doors of his 
apartment, were precautions adequate to prevent 
Allan from seeking out the very persons to whom 
he was peculiarly obnoxious. He made his escape 
by night from the window of the apartment, and 
laughing at his father’s vain care, produced on one 
occasion the head of one, and upon another those 
of two, of the Children of the Mist. At length these 
men, fierce as they were, became appalled by- the 
inveterate animosity and audacity with which Allan 
sought out their recesses. As he never hesitated 
to encounter any odds, they concluded that he must 
bear a charmed life, or fight under the guardianship 
of some supernatural influence. Neither gun, dirk, 
nor dourlach , 1 they said, availed aught against him. 
They imputed this to the remarkable circumstances 
under which he was born ; and at length five or six 
of the stoutest caterans of the Highlands would 
have fled at Allan’s halloo, or the blast of his horn. 

“ In the meanwhile, however, the Children of the 
Mist carried on their old trade, and did the M‘Au- 
lays, as well as their kinsmen and allies, as much 
mischief as they could. This provoked another ex- 
pedition against the tribe, in which I had my share ; 
we surprised them effectually, by besetting at once 
the upper and under passes of the country, and 
made such clean work as is usual on these occa- 
sions, burning and slaying right before us. In this 
1 Dourlach — quiver ; literally, satchel — of arrows. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


63 


terrible species of war, even the females and the 
helpless do not always escape. One little maiden 
alone, who smiled upon Allan’s drawn dirk, escaped 
his vengeance upon my earnest entreaty. She was 
brought to the castle, and here bred up under the 
name of Annot Lyle, the most beautiful little fairy 
certainly that ever danced upon a heath by moon- 
light. It was long ere Allan could endure the 
presence of the child, until it occurred to his imagi- 
nation, from her features perhaps, that she did not 
belong to the hated blood of his enemies, but had 
become their captive in some of their incursions ; 
a circumstance not in itself impossible, but in which 
he believes as firmly as in holy writ. He is parti- 
cularly delighted by her skill in music, which is so 
exquisite, that she far exceeds the best performers 
in this country in playing on the clairshach, or harp. 
It was discovered that this produced upon the dis- 
turbed spirits of Allan, in his gloomiest moods, 
beneficial effects, similar to those experienced by 
the Jewish monarch of old ; and so engaging is the 
temper of Annot Lyle, so fascinating the innocence 
and gaiety of her disposition, that she is considered 
and treated in the castle rather as the sister of the 
proprietor, than as a dependent upon his charity. 
Indeed, it is impossible for any one to see her with- 
out being deeply interested by the ingenuity, liveli- 
ness, and sweetness of her disposition.” 

“ Take care, my lord,” said Anderson, smiling ; 
“ there is danger in such violent commendations. 
Allan M'Aulay, as your lordship describes him, 
would prove no very safe rival.” 

“ Pooh ! pooh ! ” said Lord Menteith, laughing, 
yet blushing at the same time ; “ Allan is not ac- 
cessible to the passion of love; and for myself,” 


64 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


said he, more gravely, “ Annot’s unknown birth is 
a sufficient reason against serious designs, and her 
unprotected state precludes every other.” 

“ It is spoken like yourself, my lord,” said An- 
derson. — “ But I trust you will proceed with your 
interesting story.” 

“ It is wellnigh finished,” said Lord Menteith ; 
“ I have only to add, that from the great strength 
and courage of Allan MA.ulay, from his energetic 
and uncontrollable disposition, and from an opinion 
generally entertained and encouraged by himself, 
that he holds communion with supernatural beings, 
and can predict future events, the clan pay a much 
greater degree of deference to him than even to his 
brother, who is a bold-hearted rattling Highlander, 
but with nothing which can possibly rival the 
extraordinary character of his younger brother.” 

“ Such a character,” said Anderson, “ cannot but 
have the deepest effect on the minds of a Highland 
host. We must secure Allan, my lord, at all 
events. What between his bravery and his second 
sight ” 

“ Hush ! ” said Lord Menteith, “ that owl is 
awaking.” 

“ Do you talk of the second sight, or deutero - 
scopia t ” (c) said the soldier ; “ I remember mem- 
orable Major Munro telling me how Murdoch 
Mackenzie, born in Assint, a private gentleman in 
a company, and a pretty soldier, foretold the death 
of Donald Tough, a Lochaber man, and certain 
other persons, as well as the hurt of the major him- 
self at a sudden onfall at the siege of Trailsund.” 

“I have often heard of this faculty,” observed 
Anderson, “ but I have always thought those pre- 
tending to it were either enthusiasts or impostors.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


65 


“ I should be loath,” said Lord Menteith, “ to ap- 
ply either character to my kinsman, Allan M'Aulay. 
He has shown on many occasions too much acute- 
ness and sense, of which you this night had an 
instance, for the character of an enthusiast ; and his 
high sense of honour, and manliness of disposition, 
free him from the charge of imposture.” 

“ Your lordship, then,” said Anderson, “ is a be- 
liever in his supernatural attributes ? ” 

“ By no means,” said the young nobleman ; “ I 
think that he persuades himself that the predictions 
which are, in reality, the result of judgment and 
reflection, are supernatural impressions on his mind, 
just as fanatics conceive the workings of their own 
imagination to be divine inspiration — at least, if 
this will not serve you, Anderson, I have no bet- 
ter explanation to give ; and it is time we were all 
asleep after the toilsome journey of the day.” 


5 


CHAPTER VI. 


Coming events cast their shadows before. 

Campbell. 

At an early hour in the morning the guests of 
the castle sprung from their repose; and, after a 
moment’s private conversation with his attendants, 
Lord Menteith addressed the soldier, who was 
seated in a corner burnishing his corslet with rot- 
stone and shamois-leather, while he hummed the 
old song in honour of the victorious Gustavus 
Adolphus ; — 

When cannons are roaring, and bullets are flying, 

The lad that would have honour, boys, must never 
fear dying. 

“ Captain Dalgetty,” said Lord Menteith, “ the 
time is come that we must part, or become com- 
rades in service.” 

“ Hot before breakfast, I hope ? ” said Captain 
Dalgetty. 

“ I should have thought,” replied his lordship, 
“ that your garrison was victualled for three days 
at least.” 

“ I have still some stowage left for beef and ban- 
nocks,” said the Captain ; “ and I never miss a fa- 
vourable opportunity of renewing my supplies.” 

“ But,” said Lord Menteith, “ no judicious com- 
mander allows either flags of truce or neutrals to 
remain in his camp longer than is prudent; and 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


67 


therefore we must know your mind exactly, ac- 
cording to which you shall either have a safe-con- 
duct to depart in peace, or be welcome to remain 
with us.” 

“ Truly,” said the Captain, “ that being the case, 
I will not attempt to protract the capitulation by 
a counterfeited parley, (a thing excellently prac- 
tised by Sir James Ramsay at the siege of Hannau, 
in the year of God 1636,) but I will frankly own, 
that if I like your pay as well as your provant and 
your company, I care not how soon I take the oath 
to your colours.” 

“ Our pay,” said Lord Menteith, “ must at pre- 
sent be small, since it is paid out of the common 
stock raised by the few amongst us who can com- 
mand some funds — As major and adjutant, I dare 
not promise Captain Dalgetty more than half a 
dollar a-day.” 

“ The devil take all halves and quarters ! ” said 
the Captain ; “ were it in my option, I could no 
more consent to the halving of that dollar, than the 
woman in the Judgment of Solomon to the disse- 
verment of the child of her bowels.” 

“ The parallel will scarce hold, Captain Dalgetty, 
for I think you would rather consent to the divid- 
ing of the dollar, than give it up entire to your 
competitor. However, in the way of arrears, I may 
promise you the other half-dollar at the end of the 
campaign.” 

“ Ah ! these arrearages ! ” said Captain Dalgetty, 
“that are always promised, and always go for no- 
thing ! Spain, Austria, and Sweden, all sing one 
song. Oh ! long life to the Hoganmogans ! if they 
were no officers or soldiers, they were good pay- 
masters. — And yet, my lord, if I could but be made 


68 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


certiorate that my natural hereditament of Drum- 
thwacket had fallen into possession of any of 
these loons of Covenanters, who could be, in the 
event of our success, conveniently made a traitor 
of, I have so much value for that fertile and pleas- 
ant spot, that I would e’en take on with you for 
the campaign.” 

“ I can resolve Captain Dalgetty’s question,” said 
Sihhald, Lord Menteith’s second attendant ; “ for if 
his estate of Drumthwacket be, as I conceive, the 
long waste moor so called, that lies five miles 
south of Aberdeen, I can tell him it was lately pur- 
chased by Elias Strachan, as rank a rebel as ever 
swore the Covenant.” 

“ The crop-eared hound ! ” said Captain Dalgetty, 
in a rage ; “ what the devil gave him the assurance 
to purchase the inheritance of a family of four hun- 
dred years standing ? — Cynthius aurem vellet , as we 
used to say at Mareschal-College ; that is to say, I 
will pull him out of my father’s house by the ears. 
And so, my Lord Menteith, I am yours, hand and 
sword, body and soul, till death do us part, or to 
the end of the next campaign, whichever event 
shall first come to pass.” 

“And I,” said the young nobleman, “rivet the 
bargain by a month’s pay in advance.” 

“That is more than necessary,” said Dalgetty, 
pocketing the money however. “ But now I must 
go down, look after my war-saddle and abuilzie- 
ments, and see that Gustavus has his morning, and 
tell him we have taken new service.” 

“There goes your precious recruit,” said Lord 
Menteith to Anderson, as the Captain left the room ; 
“ I fear we shall have little credit of him.” 

“ He is a man of the times, however,” said Ander- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 69 

son ; “ and without such we should hardly he able 
to carry on our enterprise.” 

“Let us go down,” answered Lord Menteith, 
“ and see how our muster is likely to thrive, for I 
hear a good deal of bustle in the castle.” 

When they entered the hall, the domestics keep- 
ing modestly in the back -ground, morning greet- 
ings passed between Lord Menteith, Angus MAu- 
lay, and his English guests, while Allan, occupying 
the same settle which he had filled the preceding 
evening, paid no attention whatever to any one. 

Old Donald hastily rushed into the apartment. 
“A message from Yich Alister More ; 1 he is com- 
ing up in the evening.” 

“ With how many attendants ? ” said MAulay. 

“ Some five-and-twenty or thirty,” said Donald, 
“ his ordinary retinue.” 

“ Shake down plenty of straw in the great barn,” 
said the Laird. 

Another servant here stumbled hastily in, an- 
nouncing the expected approach of Sir Hector 
M‘Lean, “ who is arriving with a large following.” 

“ Put them in the malt-kiln,” said MAulay ; 
“ and keep the breadth of the middenstead between 
them and the McDonalds ; they are but unfriends 
to each other.” 

Donald now re-entered, his visage considerably 
lengthened — “ The teil’s i’ the folk,” he said ; “ the 
haill Hielands are asteer, I think. Evan Dhu, of 
Lochiel, will be here in an hour, with Lord kens 
how many gillies.” 

“Into the great barn with them beside the 
M‘Donalds,” said the Laird. 

More and more chiefs were announced, the least 

1 The patronymic of MacDonell of Glengarry. 


70 


TALES 0E MY LANDLORD. 


of whom would have accounted it derogatory to his 
dignity to stir without a retinue of six or seven 
persons. To every new annunciation, Angus M‘Au- 
lay answered by naming some place of accommo- 
dation, — the stables, the loft, the cow-house, the 
sheds, every domestic office, were destined for the 
night to some hospitable purpose or other. At 
length the arrival of M‘Dougal of Lorn, after all 
his means of accommodation were exhausted, re- 
duced him to some perplexity. “ What the devil 
is to be done, Donald ? ” said he ; “ the great barn 
would hold fifty more, if they would lie heads and 
thraws; but there would he drawn dirks amang 
• them which should lie uppermost, and so we should 
have bloody puddings before morning ! ” 

“ What needs all this ? ” said Allan, starting up, 
and coming forward with the stern abruptness of 
his usual manner ; “ are the Gael to-day of softer 
flesh or whiter blood than their fathers were ? Knock 
the head out of a cask of usquebae ; let that he their 
night-gear — their plaids their bed-clothes — the 
blue sky their canopy, and the heather their couch. 
— Come a thousand more, and they would not quar- 
rel on the broad heath for want of room ! ” 

“ Allan is right,” said his brother ; “ it is very 
odd how Allan, who, between ourselves,” said he 
to Musgrave, “ is a little wowf, 1 seems at times to 
have more sense than us all put together. Observe 
him now.” 

“ Yes,” continued Allan, fixing his eyes with a 
ghastly stare upon the opposite side of the hall, 
“ they may well begin as they are to end ; many a 
man will sleep this night upon the heath, that when 

1 Wowf, i. e. crazed. 


I 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


7 1 


the Martinmas wind shall blow shall lie there stark 
enough, and reck little of cold or lack of covering” 

“Do not forespeak us, brother,” said Angus; 
“ that is not lucky.” 

“ And what luck is it then that you expect ? ” said 
Allan ; and straining his eyes until they almost 
started from their sockets, he fell with a convulsive 
shudder into the arms of Donald and his brother, 
who, knowing the nature of his fits, had come near 
to prevent his fall. They seated him upon a bench, 
and supported him until he came to himself, and 
was about to speak. 

“For God’s sake, Allan,” said his brother, who 
knew the impression his 'mystical words were likely 
to make on many of the guests, “ say nothing to 
discourage us.” 

“ Am I he who discourages you ? ” said Allan ; 
“ let every man face his weird as I shall face mine. 
That which must come, will come ; and we shall 
stride gallantly over many a field of victory, ere we 
reach yon fatal slaughter-place, or tread yon sable 
scaffolds.” 

“ What slaughter-place ? what scaffolds ? ” ex- 
claimed several voices ; for Allan’s renown as a seer 
was generally established in the Highlands. 

“You will know that but too soon,” answered 
Allan. “ Speak to me no more, I am weary of your 
questions.” He then pressed his hand against his 
brow, rested his elbow upon his knee, and sunk into 
a deep reverie. 

“ Send for Annot Lyle, and the harp,” said Angus, 
in a whisper, to his servant ; “ and let those gentle- 
men follow me who do not fear a Highland breakfast.” 

All accompanied their hospitable landlord except- 
ing only Lord Menteith, who lingered in one of the 


7 2 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


deep embrasures formed by the windows of the hall. 
Annot Lyle shortly after glided into the room, not 
ill described by Lord Menteith as being the lightest 
and most fairy figure that ever trode the turf by 
moonlight. Her stature, considerably less than the 
ordinary size of women, gave her the appearance of 
extreme youth, insomuch, that although she was 
near eighteen, she might have passed for four years 
younger. Her figure, hands, and feet, were formed 
upon a model of exquisite symmetry with the size 
and lightness of her person, so that Titania herself 
could scarce have found a more fitting representa- 
tive. Her hair was a dark shade of the colour usu- 
ally termed flaxen, whose clustering ringlets suited 
admirably with her fair complexion, and with the 
playful, yet simple, expression of her features. When 
we add to these charms, that Annot, in her orphan 
state, seemed the gayest and happiest of maidens, 
the reader must allow us to claim for her the inter- 
est of almost all who looked on her. In fact, it was 
impossible to find a more universal favourite, and 
she often came among the rude inhabitants of the 
castle, as Allan himself, in a poetical mood, ex- 
pressed it, “ like a sunbeam on a sullen sea,” com- 
municating to all others the cheerfulness that filled 
her own mind. 

Annot, such as we have described her, smiled and 
blushed, when, on entering the apartment, Lord 
Menteith came from his place of retirement, and 
kindly wished her good-morning. 

“And good-morning to you, my lord,” returned 
she, extending her hand to her friend; “we have 
seldom seen you of late at the castle, and now I fear 
it is with no peaceful purpose.” 

“ At least, let me not interrupt your harmony, An- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


73 


not,” said Lord Menteith, “ though my arrival may 
breed discord elsewhere. My cousin Allan needs 
the assistance of your voice and music.” 

“ My preserver,” said Annot Lyle, “ has a right to 
my poor exertions ; and you, too, my lord, — you, 
too, are my preserver, and were the most active to 
save a life that is worthless enough, unless it can 
benefit my protectors.” 

So saying, she sate down at a little distance upon 
the bench on which Allan M'Aulay was placed, and 
tuning her clairshach, a small harp, about thirty 
inches in height, she accompanied it with her voice. 
The air was an ancient Gaelic melody, and the words, 
which were supposed to be very old, were in the 
same language ; but we subjoin a translation of them, 
by Secundus Macpherson, Esq. of Glenforgen, which, 
although submitted to the fetters of English rhythm, 
we trust will be found nearly as genuine as the ver- 
sion of Ossian by his celebrated namesake. 


* l. 

“ Birds of omen dark and foul, 
Niglit-crow, raven, bat, and owl, 

Leave the sick man to his dream — 

All night long he heard your scream — 
Haste to cave and ruin’d tower, 

Ivy, tod, or dingled bower, 

There to wink and mope, for, hark ! 

In the mid air sings the lark. 

2 . 

“ Hie to moorish gills and rocks, 
Prowling wolf and wily fox, — 

Hie you fast, nor turn your view, 
Though the lamb bleats to the ewe. 


74 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Couch your trains, and speed your flight, 

Safety parts with parting night ; 

And on distant echo borne, 

Comes the hunter’s early horn. 

3 . 

“ The moon’s wan crescent scarcely gleams, 
Ghost-like she fades in morning beams ; 

Hie hence each peevish imp and fay, 

That scare the pilgrim on his way : — 

Quench, kelpy ! quench, in bog and fen, 

Thy torch that cheats benighted men ; 

Thy dance is o’er, thy reign is done, 

For Benyieglo hath seen the sun. 

4 . 

“Wild thoughts, that, sinful, dark, and deep, 
O’erpower the passive mind in sleep, 

Pass from the slumberer’s soul away, 

Like night-mists from the brow of day : 

Foul hag, whose blasted visage grim 
Smothers the pulse, unnerves the limb, 

Spur thy dark palfrey, and begone ! 

Thou darest not face the godlike sun.” 

As the strain proceeded, Allan M‘Aulay gradually 
gave signs of recovering his presence of mind, and 
attention to the objects around him. The deep-knit 
furrows of his brow relaxed and smoothed them- 
selves ; and the rest of his features, which had 
seemed contorted with internal agony, relapsed into 
a more natural state. When he raised his head and 
sat upright, his countenance, though still deeply mel- 
ancholy, was divested of its wildness and ferocity ; 
and in its composed state, although by no means 
handsome, the expression of his features was strik- 
ing, manly, and even noble. His thick, brown eye- 
brows, which had hitherto been drawn close together, 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


75 


were now slightly separated, as in the natural state ; 
and his grey eyes, which had rolled and flashed 
from under them with an unnatural and portent- 
ous gleam, now recovered a steady and determined 
expression. 

“ Thank God ! ” he said, after sitting silent for 
about a minute, until the very last sounds of the 
harp had ceased to vibrate, “ my soul is no longer 
darkened — the mist hath passed from my spirit.” 

“ You owe thanks, cousin Allan,” said Lord Men- 
teith, coming forward, “ to Annot Lyle, as well as to 
heaven, for this happy change in your melancholy 
mood.” 

“My noble cousin Menteith,” said Allan, rising 
and greeting him very respectfully, as well as 
kindly, “ has known my unhappy circumstances so 
long, that his goodness will require no excuse for 
my being thus late in bidding him welcome to the 
castle.” 

“We are too old acquaintances, Allan,” said 
Lord Menteith, “ and too good friends, to stand on 
the ceremonial of outward greeting ; hut half the 
Highlands will be here to-day, and you know, with 
our mountain Chiefs, ceremony must not he ne- 
glected. What will you give little Annot for mak- 
ing you fit company to meet Evan Dhu, and I know 
not how many bonnets and feathers ? ” 

“ What will he give me ? ” said Annot, smiling ; 
“ nothing less, I hope, than the best ribbon at the 
Fair of Doune ” 

“ The Fair of Doune, Annot ? ” said Allan sadly ; 
“there will be bloody work before that day, and 
I may never see it; but you have well reminded 
me of what I have long intended to do.” 

Having said this, he left the room. 


76 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ Should he talk long in this manner,” said Lord 
Menteith, “ you must keep your harp in tune, my 
dear Annot.” 

“ I hope not,” said Annot, anxiously ; “ this fit 
has been a long one, and probably will not soon 
return. It is fearful to see a mind, naturally gen- 
erous and affectionate, afflicted by this constitu- 
tional malady.” 

As she spoke in a low and confidential tone, Lord 
Menteith naturally drew close, and stooped for- 
ward, that he might the better catch the sense of 
what she said. When Allan suddenly entered the 
apartment, they as naturally drew back from each 
other with a manner expressive of consciousness, 
as if surprised in a conversation which they wished 
to keep secret from him. This did not escape Al- 
lan’s observation ; he stopt short at the door of 
the apartment — his brows were contracted — his 
eyes rolled ; but it was only the paroxysm of a 
moment. He passed his broad sinewy hand across 
his brow, as if to obliterate these signs of emotion, 
and advanced towards Annot, holding in his hand 
a very small box made of oak-wood, curiously 
inlaid. “ I take you to witness,” he said, “ cousin 
Menteith, that I give this box and its contents to 
Annot Lyle. It contains a few ornaments that 
belonged to my poor mother — of trifling value, you 
may guess, for the wife of a Highland laird has 
seldom a rich jewel-casket.” 

“But these ornaments,” said Annot Lyle, gently 
and timidly refusing the box, “ belong to the fam- 
ily — I cannot accept ” 

“ They belong to me alone, Annot,” said Allan, 
interrupting her ; “ they were my mother’s dying 
bequest. They are all I can call my own, except 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


77 


my plaid and my claymore. Take them, therefore 
— they are to me valueless trinkets — and keep 
them for my sake — should I never return from 
these wars.” 

So saying, he opened the case, and presented it 
to Annot. “If,” said he, “they are of any value, 
dispose of them for your own support, when this 
house has been consumed with hostile fire, and can 
no longer afford you protection. But keep one ring 
in memory of Allan, who has done, to requite your 
kindness, if not all he wished, at least all he could.” 

Annot Lyle endeavoured in vain to restrain the 
gathering tears, when she said, “ One ring, Allan, 
I will accept from you as a memorial of your good- 
ness to a poor orphan, but do not press me to take 
more ; for I cannot, and will not, accept a gift of 
such disproportioned value.” 

“ Make your choice, then,” said Allan ; “ your 
delicacy may be well founded ; the others will as- 
sume a shape in which they may be more useful 
to you.” 

“ Think not of it,” said Annot, choosing from 
the contents of the casket a ring, apparently the 
most trifling in value which it contained ; “ keep 
them for your own, or your brother’s bride. — But, 
good heavens ! ” she said, interrupting herself, and 
looking at the ring, “what is this that I have 
chosen ! ” 

Allan hastened to look upon it, with eyes of 
gloomy apprehension ; it bore, in enamel, a death’s 
head above two crossed daggers. When Allan 
recognised the device, he uttered a sigh so deep, 
that she dropped the ring from her hand, which 
rolled upon the floor. Lord Menteith picked it up, 
and returned it to the terrified Annot. 


78 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ I take God to witness,” said Allan, in a solemn 
tone, “ that your hand, young lord, and not mine, 
has again delivered to her this ill-omened gift. It 
was the mourning ring worn by my mother in 
memorial of her murdered brother.” 

“ I fear no omens,” said Annot, smiling through 
her tears ; “ and nothing coming through the hands 
of my two patrons,” so she was wont to call Lord 
Menteith and Allan, “ can bring bad luck to the 
poor orphan.” 

She put the ring on her finger, and, turning to 
her harp, sung, to a lively air, the following verses 
of one of the fashionable songs of the period, which 
had found its way, marked as it was with the quaint 
hyperbolical taste of King Charles’s time, from some 
court masque to the wilds of Perthshire : — 

“ Gaze not upon the stars, fond sage, 

In them no influence lies ; 

To read the fate of youth or age, 

Look on my Helen’s eyes. 

“Yet, rash astrologer, refrain ! 

Too dearly would be won 

The prescience of another’s pain, 

If purchased by thine own.” 

“ She is right, Allan,” said Lord Menteith ; “ and 
this end of an old song is worth all we shall gain 
by our attempt to look into futurity.” 

“She is wrong, my lord,” said Allan, sternly, 
“ though you, who treat with lightness the warn- 
ings I have given you, may not live to see the event 
of the omen. — Laugh not so scornfully,” he added, 
interrupting himself, “or rather laugh on as loud 
and as long as you will ; your term of laughter will 
find a pause ere long.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


79 


“ I care not for your visions, Allan,” said Lord 
Menteith ; “ however short my span of life, the eye 
of no Highland seer can see its termination.” 

“For heaven’s sake,” said Annot Lyle, interrupt- 
ing him, “ you know his nature, and how little he 
can endure ” 

“ Fear me not,” said Allan, interrupting her, — 
“ my mind is now constant and calm. — But for you, 
young lord,” said he, turning to Lord Menteith, “ my 
eye has sought you through fields of battle, where 
Highlanders and Lowlanders lay strewed as thick 
as ever the rooks sat on those ancient trees,” point- 
ing to a rookery which was seen from the window 
— “my eye sought you, but your corpse was not 
there — my eye sought you among a train of unre- 
sisting and disarmed captives, drawn up within the 
bounding walls of an ancient and rugged fortress; — 
flash after flash — platoon after platoon — the hos- 
tile shot fell amongst them, they dropped like the 
dry leaves in autumn, but you were not among their 
ranks ; — scaffolds were prepared — blocks were ar- 
ranged, saw-dust was spread — the priest was ready 
with his book, the headsman with his axe — but 
there, too, mine eye found you not.” 

“ The gibbet, then, I suppose, must be my doom ? ” 
said Lord Menteith. “ Yet I wish they had spared 
me the halter, were it but for the dignity of the 
peerage.” 

He spoke this scornfully, yet not without a sort of 
curiosity, and a wish to receive an answer ; for the 
desire of prying into futurity frequently has some 
influence even on the minds of those who disavow 
all belief in the possibility of such predictions. 

“Your rank, my lord, will suffer no dishonour 
in your person, or by the manner of your death. 


8o 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


Three times have I seen a Highlander plant his 
dirk in your bosom — and such will be your fate.” 

“I wish you would describe him to me.” said 
Lord Menteith, “and I shall save him the trouble 
of fulfilling your prophecy, if his plaid be passible 
to sword or pistol.” 

“Your weapons,” said Allan, “would avail you 
little ; nor can I give you the information you de- 
sire. The face of the vision has been ever averted 
from me.” 

“ So be it then,” said Lord Menteith, “ and let it 
rest in the uncertainty in which your augury has 
placed it. I shall dine not the less merrily among 
plaids, and dirks, and kilts to-day.” 

“ It may be so,” said Allan ; “ and, it may be, you 
do well to enjoy these moments, which to me are 
poisoned by auguries of future evil. But I,” he con- 
tinued — “ I repeat to you, that this weapon — that 
is, such a weapon as this,” touching the hilt of the 
dirk which he wore, “ carries your fate.” 

“ In the meanwhile,” said Lord Menteith, “ you, 
Allan, have frightened the blood from the cheeks of 
Annot Lyle — let us leave this discourse, my friend, 
and go to see what we both understand, — the pro- 
gress of our military preparations.” 

They joined Angus MA_ulay and his English 
guests, and, in the military discussions which im- 
mediately took place, Allan showed a clearness of 
mind, strength of judgment, and precision of 
thought, totally inconsistent with the mystical 
light in which his character has been hitherto 
exhibited. 





























































\ 











CHAPTER YII. 


When Albin her claymore indignantly draws, 

When her bonneted chieftains around her shall crowd. 

Clan- Ranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud, 

All plaided and plumed in their tartan array 

Lochiel’s Warning. 

Whoever saw that morning the Castle of Damlin- 
varach, beheld a busy and a gallant sight. 

The various Chiefs, arriving with their different 
retinues, which, notwithstanding their numbers, 
formed no more than their usual equipage and 
bodyguard upon occasions of solemnity, saluted 
the lord of the castle and each other with over- 
flowing kindness, or with haughty and distant po- 
liteness, according to the circumstances of friendship 
or hostility in which their clans had recently stood 
to each other. Each Chief, however small his com- 
parative importance, showed the full disposition to 
exact from the rest the deference due to a separate 
and independent prince ; while the stronger and 
more powerful, divided among themselves by re- 
cent contentions or ancient feuds, were constrained 
in policy to use great deference to the feelings of 
their less powerful brethren, in order, in case of 
need, to attach as many well-wishers as might be to 
their own interest and standard. Thus the meeting 
of Chiefs resembled not a little those ancient Diets 
of the Empire, where the smallest Frey- Graf, who 
possessed a castle perched upon a barren crag, with 
6 


82 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


a few hundred acres around it, claimed the state 
and honours of a sovereign prince, and a seat ac- 
cording to his rank among the dignitaries of the 
Empire. 

The followers of the different leaders were separ- 
ately arranged and accommodated, as room and cir- 
cumstances best permitted, each retaining however 
his henchman, who waited, close as the shadow, 
upon his person, to execute whatever might be re- 
quired by his patron. 

The exterior of the castle afforded a singular scene. 
The Highlanders, from different islands, glens, and 
straths, eyed each other at a distance with looks of 
emulation, inquisitive curiosity, or hostile malevo- 
lence ; but the most astounding part of the assem- 
bly, at least to a Lowland ear, was the rival 
performance of the bagpipers. These warlike 
minstrels, who had the highest opinion, each, of 
the superiority of his own tribe, joined to the most 
overweening idea of the importance connected with 
his profession, at first performed their various pi- 
brochs in front each of his own clan. At length, 
however, as the black-cocks towards the end of the 
season, when, in sportsman’s language, they are said 
to flock or crowd, attracted together by the sound 
of each other’s triumphant crow, even so did the 
pipers, swelling their plaids and tartans in the 
same triumphant manner in which the birds ruffle 
up their feathers, begin to approach each other 
within such distance as might give to their breth- 
ren a sample of their skill. Walking within a short 
interval, and eyeing each other with looks in which 
self-importance and defiance might be traced, they 
strutted, puffed, and plied their screaming instru- 
ments, each playing his own favourite tune with 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


83 


such a din, that if an Italian musician had lain 
buried within ten miles of them, he must have 
risen from the dead to run out of hearing. 

The Chieftains meanwhile had assembled in close 
conclave in the great hall of the castle. Among 
them were the persons of the greatest consequence 
in the Highlands, some of them attracted by zeal 
for the royal cause, and many by aversion to that 
severe and general domination which the Marquis 
of Argyle, since his rising to such influence in the 
state, had exercised over his Highland neighbours. 
That statesman, indeed, though possessed of consid- 
erable abilities, and great power, had failings, which 
rendered him unpopular among the Highland chiefs. 
The devotion which he professed was of a morose 
and fanatical character ; his ambition appeared to be 
insatiable, and inferior chiefs complained of his want 
of bounty and liberality. Add to this, that although 
a Highlander, and of a family distinguished for val- 
our before and since, Gillespie Grumach 1 (which, 
from an obliquity in his eyes, was the personal dis- 
tinction he bore in the Highlands, where titles of 
rank are unknown) was suspected of being a better 
man in the cabinet than in the field. He and his 
tribe were particularly obnoxious to the M ‘Donalds 
and the M ‘Leans, two numerous septs, who, though 
disunited by ancient feuds, agreed in an intense 
dislike to the Campbells, or, as they were called, 
the Children of Diarmid. 

For some time the assembled Chiefs remained 
silent, until some one should open the business of 
the meeting. At length one of the most powerful 
of them commenced the diet by saying, — “ We 
have been summoned hither, M‘Aulay, to consult 

1 Grumach, — ill-favoured. 


8 4 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


of weighty matters concerning the King's affairs, 
and those of the state ; and we crave to know by 
whom they are to be explained to us ? ” 

M'Aulay, whose strength did not lie in oratory, 
intimated his wish that Lord Menteith should open 
the business of the council. With great modesty, 
and at the same time with spirit, that young lord 
said, “ he wished what he was about to propose had 
come from some person of better known and more 
established character. Since, however, it lay with 
him to be spokesman, he had to state to the Chiefs 
assembled, that those who wished to throw off the 
base yoke which fanaticism had endeavoured to 
wreath round their necks, had not a moment to lose. 
The Covenanters,” he said, “ after having twice 
made war upon their sovereign, and having extorted 
from him every request, reasonable or unreasonable, 
which they thought proper to demand — after their 
Chiefs had been loaded with dignities and favours 
— after having publicly declared, when his Majesty, 
after a gracious visit to the land of his nativity, 
was upon his return to England, that he returned 
a contented king from a contented people, — after 
all this, and without even the pretext for a national 
grievance, the same men have, upon doubts and 
suspicions, equally dishonourable to the King, and 
groundless in themselves, detached a strong army 
to assist his rebels in England, in a quarrel with 
which Scotland had no more to do than she has 
with the wars in Germany. It was well,” he said, 
“that the eagerness with which this treasonable 
purpose was pursued, had blinded the junta who 
now usurped the government of Scotland to the 
risk which they were about to incur. The army 
which they had dispatched to England under old 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


85 


Leven comprehended their veteran soldiers, the 
strength of those armies which had been levied in 
Scotland during the two former wars ” 

Here Captain Dalgetty endeavoured to rise, for 
the purpose of explaining how many veteran officers, 
trained in the German wars, were, to his certain 
knowledge, in the army of the Earl of Leven. But 
Allan M'Aulay holding him down in his seat with 
one hand, pressed the fore-finger of the other upon 
his own lips, and, though with some difficulty, pre- 
vented his interference. Captain Dalgetty looked 
upon 'him with a very scornful and indignant 
air, by which the other’s gravity was in no way 
moved, and Lord Menteith proceeded without farther 
interruption. 

“The moment,” he said, “was most favourable 
for all true-hearted and loyal Scotchmen to show, 
that the reproach their country had lately under- 
gone arose from the selfish ambition of a few tur- 
bulent and seditious men, joined to the absurd 
fanaticism which, disseminated from five hundred 
pulpits, had spread like a land-flood over the Low- 
lands of Scotland. He had letters from the Mar- 
quis of Huntly in the north, which he should show 
to the Chiefs separately. That nobleman, equally 
loyal and powerful, was determined to exert his 
utmost energy in the common cause, and the power- 
ful Earl of Seaforth was prepared to join the same 
standard. From the Earl of Airly, and the Ogil- 
vies in Angusshire, he had had communications 
equally decided ; and there was no doubt that these, 
who, with the Hays, Leiths, Burnets, and other 
loyal gentlemen, would be soon on horseback, would 
form a body far more than sufficient to overawe the 
northern Covenanters, who had already experienced 


86 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


their valour in the well-known rout which was 
popularly termed the Trot of Turiff. ( d ) South of 
Forth and Tay,” he said, “ the King had many 
friends, who, oppressed by enforced oaths, compul- 
satory levies, heavy taxes, unjustly imposed and 
unequally levied, by the tyranny of the Committee 
of Estates, and the inquisitorial insolence of the 
Presbyterian divines, waited but the waving of the 
royal banner to take up arms. Douglas, Traquair, 
Roxburgh, Hume, all friendly to the royal cause, 
would counterbalance,” he said, “ the covenanting 
interest in the south ; and two gentlemen, of name 
and quality, here present, from the north of Eng- 
land, would answer for the zeal of Cumberland, 
Westmoreland, and Northumberland. Against so 
many gallant gentlemen the southern Covenanters 
could but arm raw levies ; the Whigamores of the 
western shires, and the ploughmen and mechanics 
of the Low-country. For the West Highlands, he 
knew no interest which the Covenanters possessed 
there, except that of one individual, as well known 
as he was odious. But was there a single man, who, 
on casting his eye round this hall, and recognising 
the power, the gallantry, and the dignity of the 
chiefs assembled, could entertain a moment’s doubt 
of their success against the utmost force which Gil- 
lespie Grumach could collect against them ? He 
had only farther to add, that considerable funds, 
both of money and ammunition, had been provided 
for the army ” — (Here Dalgetty pricked up his ears) 
— “that officers of ability and experience in the 
foreign wars, one of whom was now present,” (the 
Captain drew himself up, and looked round,) “ had 
engaged to train such levies as might require to be 
disciplined ; — and that a numerous body of auxil- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


87 


iary forces from Ireland, having been detached from 
the Earl of Antrim, from Ulster, had successfully 
accomplished their descent upon the main land, and, 
with the assistance of Clanranald’s people, having 
taken and fortified the Castle of Mingarry, in spite 
of Argyle’s attempts to intercept them, were in full 
march to this place of rendezvous. It only re- 
mained,” he said, “ that the noble Chiefs assembled, 
laying aside every lesser consideration, should unite, 
heart and hand, in the common cause ; send the 
fiery cross through their clans, in order to collect 
their utmost force, and form their junction with 
such celerity as to leave the enemy no time, either 
for preparation, or recovery from the panic which 
would spread at the first sound of their pibroch. 
He himself,” he said, “ though neither among the 
richest nor the most powerful of the Scottish no- 
bility, felt that he had to support the dignity of an 
ancient and honourable house, the independence of 
an ancient and honourable nation, and to that cause 
he was determined to devote both life and fortune. 
If those who were more powerful were equally 
prompt, he trusted they would deserve the thanks 
of their King, and the gratitude of posterity. ” 

Loud applause followed this speech of Lord Men- 
teith, and testified the general acquiescence of all 
present in the sentiments which he had expressed ; 
but when the shout had died away, the assembled 
Chiefs continued to gaze upon each other as if 
something yet remained to be settled. After some 
whispers among themselves, an aged man, whom 
his grey hairs rendered respectable, although he 
was not of the highest order of Chiefs, replied to 
what had been said. 

“Thane of Menteith,” he said, “you have well 


88 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


spoken ; nor is there one of us in whose bosom the 
same sentiments do not burn like fire. But it is 
not strength alone that wins the fight; it is the 
head of the commander, as well as the arm of the 
soldier, that brings victory. I ask of you who is to 
raise and sustain the banner under which we are 
invited to rise and muster ourselves? Will it be 
expected that we should risk our children, and the 
flower of our kinsmen, ere we know to whose gui- 
dance they are to be intrusted ? This were lead- 
ing those to slaughter, whom, by the laws of God 
and man, it is our duty to protect. Where is the 
royal commission, under which the lieges are to be 
convocated in arms ? Simple and rude as we may 
be deemed, we know something of the established 
rules of war, as well as of the laws of our country ; 
nor will we arm ourselves against the general peace 
of Scotland, unless by the express commands of the 
King, and under a leader fit to command such men 
as are here assembled.” 

“ Where would you find such a leader,” said an- 
other Chief, starting up, “ saving the representative 
of the Lord of the Isles, entitled by birth and heredi- 
tary descent to lead forth the array of every clan of 
the Highlands; and where is that dignity lodged, 
save in the house of Yich Alister More ? ” 

“ I acknowledge,” said another Chief, eagerly in- 
terrupting the speaker, “ the truth in what has been 
first said, but not the inference. If Yich Alister 
More desires to be held representative of the Lord 
of the Isles, let him first show his blood is redder 
than mine.” 

“ That is soon tried,” said Yich Alister More, lay- 
ing his hand upon the basket hilt of his claymore. 
Lord Menteith threw himself between them, en- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


89 

treating and imploring each to remember that the 
interests of Scotland, the liberty of their country, 
and the cause of their King, ought to be superior in 
their eyes to any personal disputes respecting de- 
scent, rank, and precedence. Several of the High- 
land Chiefs, who had no desire to admit the claims 
of either chieftain, interfered to the same purpose, 
and none with more emphasis than the celebrated 
Evan Dhu. 

“I have come from my lakes,” he said, “as a 
stream descends from the hills, not to turn again, 
but to accomplish my course. It is not by looking 
back to our own pretensions that we shall serve 
Scotland or King Charles. My voice shall be for 
that general whom the King shall name, who will 
doubtless possess those qualities which are neces- 
sary to command men like us. High-born he must 
be, or we shall lose our rank in obeying him — wise 
and skilful, or we shall endanger the safety of our 
people — bravest among the brave, or we shall peril 
our own honour — temperate, firm, and manly, to 
keep us united. Such is the man that must com- 
mand us. Are you prepared, Thane of Menteith, to 
say where such a general is to be found ? ” 

“ There is but one,” said Allan MAmlay ; “ and 
here,” he said, laying his hand upon the shoulder of 
Anderson, who stood behind Lord Menteith, “ here 
he stands ! ” 

The general surprise of the meeting was expressed 
by an impatient murmur ; when Anderson, throw- 
ing back the cloak in which his face was muffled, 
and stepping forward, spoke thus : — “I did not 
long intend to be a silent spectator of this interest- 
ing scene, although my hasty friend has obliged me 
to disclose myself somewhat sooner than was my 


90 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


intention. Whether I deserve the honour reposed 
in me by this parchment will best appear from what 
I shall be able to do for the King’s service. It is a 
commission, under the great seal, to James Graham, 
Earl of Montrose, to command those forces which 
are to be assembled for the service of his Majesty in 
this kingdom.” 

A loud shout of approbation burst from the as- 
sembly. There was, in fact, no other person to 
whom, in point of rank, these proud mountaineers 
would have been disposed to submit. His inveterate 
and hereditary hostility to the Marquis of Argyle 
insured his engaging in the war with sufficient 
energy, while his Well-known military talents, and 
his tried valour, afforded every hope of his bringing 
it to a favourable conclusion. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Our plot is a good plot as ever was laid ; our friends true and 
constant : a good plot, good friends, and full of' expectation : an 
excellent plot, very good friends. 

Henry IV. Part I. 


Ho sooner had the general acclamation of joyful sur- 
prise subsided, than silence was eagerly demanded 
for reading the royal commission ; and the bonnets, 
which hitherto each Chief had worn, probably be- 
cause unwilling to he the first to uncover, were now 
at once vailed in honour of the royal warrant. It was 
couched in the most full and ample terms, authoriz- 
ing the Earl of Montrose to assemble the subjects in 
arms, for the putting down the present rebellion, 
which divers traitors and seditious persons had levied 
against the King, to the manifest forfaulture, as it 
stated, of their allegiance, and to the breach of the 
pacification between the two kingdoms. It enjoined 
all subordinate authorities to be obedient and assist- 
ing to Montrose in his enterprise; gave him the 
power of making ordinances and proclamations, pun- 
ishing misdemeanours, pardoning criminals, placing 
and displacing governors and commanders. In fine, 
it was as large and full a commission as any with 
which a prince could intrust a subject. As soon as 
it was finished, a shout burst from the assembled 
Chiefs, in testimony of their ready submission to 
the will of their sovereign. Not contented with 


92 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


generally thanking them for a reception so favour- 
able, Montrose hastened to address himself to indi- 
viduals. The most important Chiefs had already 
been long personally known to him, but even to 
those of inferior consequence he now introduced 
himself, and by the acquaintance he displayed with 
their peculiar designations, and the circumstances 
and history of their clans, he showed how long he 
must have studied the character of the mountain- 
eers, and prepared himself for such a situation as he 
now held. 

While he was engaged in these acts of courtesy, 
his graceful manner, expressive features, and dig- 
nity of deportment, made a singular contrast with 
the coarseness and meanness of his dress. Montrose 
possessed that sort of form and face, in which the 
beholder, at the first glance, sees nothing extraor- 
dinary, but of which the interest becomes more im- 
pressive the longer we gaze upon them. His stature 
was very little above the middle size, but in person 
he was uncommonly well-built, and capable both of 
exerting great force, and enduring much fatigue. 
In fact, he enjoyed a constitution of iron, without 
which he could not have sustained the trials of his 
extraordinary campaigns, through all of which he 
subjected himself to the hardships of the meanest 
soldier. He was perfect in all exercises, whether 
peaceful or martial, and possessed, of course, that 
graceful ease of deportment proper to those to whom 
habit has rendered all postures easy. 

His long brown hair, according to the custom of 
men of quality among the Royalists, was parted on 
the top of his head, and trained to hang down on 
each side in curled locks, one of which, descending 
two or three inches lower than the others, intimated 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


93 


Montrose’s compliance with that fashion against 
which it pleased Mr. Prynne, the puritan, to write 
a treatise, entitled, “The Unloveliness of Love- 
locks.” The features which these tresses enclosed, 
were of that kind which derive their interest from 
the character of the man, rather than from the 
regularity of their form. But a high nose, a full, 
decided, well-opened, quick grey eye, and a sanguine 
complexion, made amends for some coarseness and 
irregularity in the subordinate parts of the face ; 
so that, altogether, Montrose might be termed 
rather a handsome, than a hard-featured man. But 
those who saw him when his soul looked through 
those eyes with all the energy and fire of genius 
— those who heard him speak with the authority 
of talent, and the eloquence of nature, were im- 
pressed with an opinion even of his external form, 
more enthusiastically favourable than the portraits 
which still survive would entitle us to ascribe to it. 
Such, at least, was the impression he made upon the 
assembled Chiefs of the mountaineers, over whom, 
as upon all persons in their state of society, personal 
appearance has no small influence. 

In the discussions which followed his discover- 
ing himself, Montrose explained the various risks 
which he had run in his present undertaking. His 
first attempt had been to assemble a body of loyal- 
ists in the north of England, who, in obedience to 
the orders of the Marquis of Newcastle, he expected 
would have marched into Scotland ; but the dis- 
inclination of the English to cross the Border, and 
the delay of the Earl of Antrim, who was to have 
landed in the Solway Frith with his Irish army, 
prevented his executing this design. Other plans 
having in like manner failed, he stated that he 


94 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


found himself under the necessity of assuming a 
disguise to render his passage secure through the 
Lowlands, in which he had been kindly assisted by 
his kinsman of Menteith. By what means Allan 
M'Aulay had come to know him, he could not pre- 
tend to explain. Those who knew Allan’s prophetic 
pretensions, smiled mysteriously ; but he himself 
only replied, that “ the Earl of Montrose need not 
be surprised if he was known to thousands, of 
whom he himself could retain no memory.” 

“ By the honour of a cavalier,” said Captain Dal- 
getty, finding at length an opportunity to thrust 
in his word, “ I am proud and happy in having an 
opportunity of drawing a sword under your lord- 
ship’s command ; and I do forgive all grudge, male- 
content, and malice of my heart, to Mr. Allan 
M‘Aulay, for having thrust me down to the lowest 
seat of the board yestreen. Certes, he hath this day 
spoken so like a man having full command of his 
senses, that I had resolved in my secret purpose 
that he was no way entitled to claim the privilege 
of insanity. But since I was only postponed to a 
noble earl, my future commander-in-chief, I do, be- 
fore you all, recognise the justice of the preference, 
and heartily salute Allan as one who is to be his 
bon-camarado” 

Having made this speech, which was little un- 
derstood or attended to, without putting off his 
military glove, he seized on Allan’s hand, and 
began to shake it with violence, which Allan, with 
a gripe like a smith’s vice, returned with such force, 
as to drive the iron splents of the gauntlet into the 
hand of the wearer. 

Captain Dalgetty might have construed this into 
a new affront, had not his attention, as he stood 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


95 


blowing and shaking the injured member, been sud- 
denly called by Montrose himself. 

“Hear this news,” he said, “Captain Dalgetty 
— I should say Major Dalgetty, — the Irish, who 
are to profit by your military experience, are now 
within a few leagues of us.” 

“ Our deer-stalkers,” said Angus M'Aulay, “ who 
were abroad to bring in venison for this honourable 
party, have heard of a band of strangers, speak- 
ing neither Saxon nor pure Gaelic, and with diffi- 
culty making themselves understood by the people 
of the country, who are marching this way in arms, 
under the leading, it is said, of Alas ter M‘Donald, 
who is commonly called Young Colkitto.” 

“ These must be our men,” said Montrose ; “ we 
must hasten to send messengers forward, both to 
act as guides an^ to relieve their wants.” 

“ The last,” said Angus M‘Aulay, “ will be no easy 
matter ; for I am informed, that, excepting muskets 
and a very little ammunition, they want every thing 
that soldiers should have ; and they are particularly 
deficient in money, in shoes, and in raiment.” 

“ There is at least no use in saying so,” said 
Montrose, “in so loud a tone. The puritan weavers 
of Glasgow shall provide them plenty of broad-cloth, 
when we make a descent from the Highlands ; and 
if the ministers could formerly preach the old 
women of the Scottish boroughs out of their webs 
of napery, to make tents to the fellows on Dunse 
Law, 1 1 will try whether I have not a little interest 
both to make these godly dames renew their pa- 
triotic gift, and the prick-eared knaves, their hus- 
bands, open their purses.” 

1 The Covenanters encamped on Dunse Law, during the 
troubles of 1639. 


96 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“And respecting arms,” said Captain Dalgetty, 
“ if your lordship will permit an old cavalier to 
speak his mind, so that the one-third have muskets, 
my darling weapon would be the pike for the re- 
mainder, whether for resisting a charge of horse, 
or for breaking the infantry. A common smith 
will make a hundred pike-heads in a day ; here is 
plenty of wood for shafts ; and I will uphold, that, 
according to the best usages of war, a strong bat- 
talion of pikes, drawn up in the fashion of the Lion 
of the North, the immortal Gustavus, would beat 
the Macedonian phalanx, of which I used to read 
in the Mareschal-College, when I studied in the 
ancient town of Bon-accord; and further, I will 
venture to predicate” 

The Captain’s lecture upon tactics was here sud- 
denly interrupted by Allan M'Aulay, who said, 
hastily, — “ Room for an unexpected and unwelcome 
guest ! ” 

At the same moment, the door of the hall opened, 
and a grey-haired man, of a very stately appear- 
ance, presented himself to the assembly. There 
was much dignity, and even authority, in his 
manner. His stature was above the common size, 
and his looks such as were used to command. 
He cast a severe, and almost stern glance upon 
the assembly of Chiefs. Those of the higher 
rank among them returned it with scornful in- 
difference; but some of the western gentlemen of 
inferior power, looked as if they wished themselves 
elsewhere. 

“ To which of this assembly,” said the stranger, 
“ am I to address myself as leader ? or have you not 
fixed upon the person who is to hold an office at 
least as perilous as it is honourable?” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


97 


“ Address yourself to me, Sir Duncan Campbell,” 
said Montrose, stepping forward. 

“To you!” said Sir Duncan Campbell, with 
some scorn. 

“ Yes, — to me,” repeated Montrose, — “ to the 
Earl of Montrose, if you have forgot him.” 

“ I should now, at least,” said Sir Duncan Camp- 
bell, “ have had some difficulty in recognising him 
in the disguise of a groom. — And yet I might have 
guessed that no evil influence inferior to your lord- 
ship’s, distinguished as one who troubles Israel, 
could have collected together this rash assembly of 
misguided persons.” 

“I will answer unto you,” said Montrose, “in 
the manner of your own Puritans. I have not 
troubled Israel, but thou and thy father’s house. 
But let us leave an altercation, which is of little 
consequence but to ourselves, and hear the tidings 
you have brought from your Chief of Argyle ; for I 
must conclude that it is in his name that you have 
come to this meeting.” 

“It is in the name of the Marquis of Argyle,” 
said Sir Duncan Campbell, — “ in the name of the 
Scottish Convention of Estates, that I demand to 
know the meaning of this singular convocation. If 
it is designed to disturb the peace of the country, 
it were but acting like neighbours, and men of hon- 
our, to give us some intimation to stand upon our 
guard.” 

“ It is a singular, and new state of affairs in Scot- 
land,” said Montrose, turning from Sir Duncan 
Campbell to the assembly, “ when Scottish men of 
rank and family cannot meet in the house of a com- 
mon friend without an inquisitorial visit and de- 
mand, on the part of our rulers, to know the sub- 
7 


) 


98 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


ject of our conference. Methinks our ancestors 
were accustomed to hold Highland huntings, or 
other purposes of meeting, without asking the leave 
either of the great M'Callum More himself, or any 
of his emissaries or dependents.” 

“The times have been such in Scotland,” an- 
swered one of the Western Chiefs, “ and such they 
will again be, when the intruders on our ancient 
possessions are again reduced to be Lairds of 
Lochow, instead of overspreading us like a band of 
devouring locusts.” 

“Am I to understand, then,” said Sir Duncan, 
“ that it is against my name alone that these pre- 
parations are directed ? or are the race of Diarmid 
only to be sufferers in common with the whole of 
the peaceful and orderly inhabitants of Scotland ? ” 

“ I would ask,” said a wild-looking Chief, start- 
ing hastily up, “ one question of the Knight of Ar- 
denvohr, ere he proceeds farther in his daring 
catechism. — Has he brought more than one life to 
this castle, that he ventures to intrude among us 
for the purposes of insult ? ” 

“Gentlemen,” said Montrose, “let me implore 
your patience ; a messenger who comes among us 
for the purpose of embassy, is entitled to freedom 
of speech, and a safe-conduct. And since Sir Dun- 
can Campbell is so pressing, I care not if I inform 
him, for his guidance, that he is in an assembly of 
the King’s loyal subjects, convoked by me, in his 
Majesty’s name and authority, and as empowered 
by his Majesty’s royal commission.” 

“We are to have, then, I presume,” said Sir 
Duncan Campbell, “ a civil war in all its forms ? I 
have been too long a soldier to view its approach 
with anxiety ; but it would have been for my Lord 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


99 


of Montrose’s honour, if, in this matter, he had con- 
sulted his own ambition less, and the peace of the 
country more.” 

“ Those consulted their own ambition and self- 
interest, Sir Duncan,” answered Montrose, “who 
brought the country to the pass in which it now 
stands, and rendered necessary the sharp remedies 
which we are now reluctantly about to use.” 

“And what rank among these self-seekers,” said 
Sir Duncan Campbell , (< shall we assign to a noble 
Earl, so violently attached to the Covenant, that 
he was the first, in 1639, to cross the Tyne, wading 
middle deep at the head of his regiment, to charge 
the royal forces ? It was the same, I think, who 
imposed the Covenant upon the burgesses and 
colleges of Aberdeen, at the point of sword and 
pike ” 

“ I understand your sneer, Sir Duncan,” said 
Montrose, temperately ; “ and I can only add, that 
if sincere repentance can make amends for youth- 
ful error, and for yielding to the artful representa- 
tion of ambitious hypocrites, I shall be pardoned 
for the crimes with which you taunt me. I will at 
least endeavour to deserve forgiveness, for I am 
here, with my sword in my hand, willing to spend 
the best blood of my body to make amends for my 
error ; and mortal man can do no more.” 

“Well, my lord,” said Sir Duncan, “I shall be 
sorry to carry back this language to the Marquis 
of Argyle. I had it in farther charge from the 
Marquis, that, to prevent the bloody feuds which 
must necessarily follow a Highland war, his lord- 
ship will be contented if terms of truce could be 
arranged to the north of the Highland line, as there 
is ground enough in Scotland to fight upon, with- 


100 


TALES 0E MY LANDLORD. 


out neighbours destroying each other’s families and 
inheritances.” 

“ It is a peaceful proposal,” said Montrose, smil- 
ing, “ such as it should be, coming from one whose 
personal actions have always been more peaceful 
than his measures. Yet, if the terms of such a 
truce could be equally fixed, and if we can obtain 
security, — for that, Sir Duncan, is indispensable, — 
that your Marquis will observe these terms with 
strict fidelity, I, for my part, should be content to 
leave peace behind us, since we must needs carry 
war before us. But, Sir Duncan, you are too old 
and experienced a soldier for us to permit you to 
remain in our leaguer, and witness our proceed- 
ings ; we shall therefore, when you have refreshed 
yourself, recommend your speedy return to Inver- 
ary, and we shall send with you a gentleman on 
our part to adjust the terms of the Highland armis- 
tice, in case the Marquis shall be found serious in 
proposing such a measure.” Sir Duncan Campbell 
assented by a bow. 

“My Lord of Menteith,” continued Montrose, 
“ will you have the goodness to attend Sir Duncan 
Campbell of Ardenvohr, while we determine who 
shall return with him to his Chief ? . M‘Aulay will 
permit us to request that he be entertained with 
suitable hospitality.” 

“ I will give orders for that,” said Allan M‘Au- 
lay, rising and coming forward. “ I love Sir Dun- 
can Campbell ; we have been joint sufferers in 
former days, and I do not forget it now.” 

“ My Lord of Menteith,” said Sir Duncan Camp- 
bell, “ I am grieved to see you, at your early age, 
engaged in such desperate and rebellious courses.” 

“I am young,” answered Menteith, “yet old 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


ioi 


enough to distinguish between right and wrong, 
between loyalty and rebellion ; and the sooner a 
good course is begun, the longer and the better 
have I a chance of running it.” 

“ And you too, my friend, Allan M‘Aulay,” said 
Sir Duncan, taking his hand, “ must we also call 
each other enemies, that have been so often allied 
against a common foe ? ” Then turning round to 
the meeting, he said, “ Farewell, gentlemen ; there 
are so many of you to whom I wish well, that your 
rejection of all terms of mediation gives me deep 
affliction. May Heaven,” he said, looking upwards, 
“judge between our motives, and those of the 
movers of this civil commotion ! ” 

“ Amen,” said Montrose ; “ to that tribunal we 
all submit us.” 

Sir Duncan Campbell left the hall, accompanied 
by Allan M'Aulay and Lord Menteith. “There 
goes a true-bred Campbell,” said Montrose, as the 
envoy departed, “ for they are ever fair and false.” 

“ Pardon me, my lord,” said Evan Dhu ; “ here- 
ditary enemy as I am to their name, I have ever 
found the Knight of Ardenvohr brave in war, hon- 
est in peace, and true in council.” 

“Of his own disposition,” said Montrose, “ such 
he is undoubtedly ; but he now acts as the organ 
or mouth-piece of his Chief, the Marquis, the falsest 
man that ever drew breath. And, M'Aulay,” he 
continued in a whisper to his host, “ lest he should 
make some impression upon the inexperience of 
Menteith, or the singular disposition of your bro- 
ther, you had better send music into their chamber, 
to prevent his inveigling them into any private 
conference.” 

“ The devil a musician have I,” answered M‘Au- 


102 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


lay, “excepting the piper, who has nearly broke 
his wind by an ambitious contention for superiority 
with three of his own craft ; but I can send Annot 
Lyle and her harp.” And he left the apartment 
to give orders accordingly. 

Meanwhile a warm discussion took place, who 
should undertake the perilous task of returning with 
Sir Duncan to Inverary. To the higher dignitaries, 
accustomed to consider themselves upon an equality 
even with M‘Callum More, this was an office not 
to be proposed ; unto others who could not plead 
the same excuse, it was altogether unacceptable. 
One would have thought Inverary had been the 
Valley of the Shadow of Death, the inferior chiefs 
showed such reluctance to approach it. After a 
considerable hesitation, the plain reason was at 
length spoken out, namely, that whatever High- 
lander should undertake an office so distasteful to 
M'Callum More, he would be sure to treasure the 
offence in his remembrance, and one day or other 
to make him bitterly repent of it. 

In this dilemma, Montrose, who considered the 
proposed armistice as a mere stratagem on the part 
of Argyle, although he had not ventured bluntly 
to reject it in presence of those whom it concerned 
so nearly, resolved to impose the danger and dig- 
nity upon Captain Dalgetty, who had neither clan 
nor estate in the Highlands upon which the wrath 
of Argyle could wreak itself. 

“But I have a neck though,” said Dalgetty, 
bluntly ; “ and what if he chooses to avenge him- 
self upon that? I have known a case where an 
honourable ambassador has been hanged as a spy 
before now. Neither did the Romans use ambassa- 
dors much more mercifully at the siege of Capua, 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


103 


although I read that they only cut off their hands 
and noses, put out their eyes, and suffered them to 
depart in peace.” 

“By my honour, Captain Dalgetty,” said Mon- 
trose, “should the Marquis, contrary to the rules 
of war, dare to practise any atrocity against you, 
you may depend upon my taking such signal ven- 
geance that all Scotland shall ring of it.” 

“ That will do but little for Dalgetty,” returned 
the Captain ; “ hut corragio ! as the Spaniard says. 
With the Land of Promise full in view, the Moor 
of Drumthwacket, mea paupera regna , as we said 
at Mareschal-College, I will not refuse your Ex- 
cellency’s commission, being conscious it becomes 
a cavalier of honour to obey his commander’s orders, 
in defiance both of gibbet and sword.” 

“Gallantly resolved,” said Montrose; “and if 
you will come apart with me, I will furnish you 
with the conditions to be laid before M'Callum 
More, upon which we are willing to grant him a 
truce for his Highland dominions.” 

With these we need not trouble our readers. 
They were of an evasive nature, calculated to meet 
a proposal which Montrose considered to have been 
made only for the purpose of gaining time. When 
he had put Captain Dalgetty in complete posses- 
sion of his instructions, and when that worthy, 
making his military obeisance, was near the door 
of his apartment, Montrose made him a sign to 
return. 

“ I presume,” said he, “ I need not remind an 
officer who has served under the great Gustavus, 
that a little more is required of a person sent with 
a flag of truce than mere discharge of his instruc- 
tions, and that his general will expect from him, on 


104 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


his return, some account of the state of the ene- 
my’s affairs, as far as they come under his observa- 
tion. In short, Captain Dalgetty, you must be un 
peu clair-voyant.” 

“Ah ha! your Excellency,” said the Captain, 
twisting his hard features into an inimitable expres- 
sion of cunning and intelligence, “if they do not 
put my head in a poke, which I have known prac- 
tised upon honourable soldados who have been sus- 
pected to come upon such errands as the present,, 
your Excellency may rely on a preceese narration of 
whatever Dugald Dalgetty shall hear or see, were it 
even how many turns of tune there are in M‘Cal- 
lum More’s pibroch, or how many checks in the sett 
of his plaid and trews.” 

“ Enough,” answered Montrose ; “ farewell, Cap- 
tain Dalgetty : and as they say that a lady’s mind 
is always expressed in her postscript, so I would 
have you think that the most important part of 
your commission lies in what I have last said to 
you.” 

Dalgetty once more grinned intelligence, and 
withdrew to victual his charger and himself, for the 
fatigues of his approaching mission. 

At the door of the stable, — for Gustavus always 
claimed his first care, — he met Angus M A,ulay and 
Sir Miles Musgrave, who had been looking at his 
horse ; and, after praising his points and carriage, 
both united in strongly dissuading the Captain from 
taking an animal of such value with him upon his 
present very fatiguing journey. 

Angus painted in the most alarming colours the 
roads, or rather wild tracks, by which it would be 
necessary for him to travel into Argyle shire, and 
the wretched huts or bothies where he would be 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


105 


condemned to pass the night, and where no forage 
could be procured for his horse, unless he could eat 
the stumps of old heather. In short, he pronounced 
it absolutely impossible, that, after undertaking such 
a pilgrimage, the animal could be in any case for 
military service. The Englishman strongly con- 
firmed all that Angus had said, and gave himself, 
body and soul, to the devil, if he thought it was not 
an act little short of absolute murder to carry a 
horse worth a farthing into such a waste and inhos- 
pitable desert. Captain Dalgetty for an instant 
looked steadily, first at one of the gentlemen and 
next at the other, and then asked them, as if in a 
state of indecision, what they would advise him to 
do with Gustavus under such circumstances. 

“ By the hand of my father, my dear friend,” 
answered M'Aulay, “ if you leave the beast in my 
keeping, you may rely on his being fed and sorted 
according to his worth and quality, and that upon 
your happy return, you will find him as sleek as an 
onion boiled in butter.” 

“ Or,” said Sir Miles Musgrave, “ if this worthy 
cavalier chooses to part with his charger for a rea- 
sonable sum, I have some part of the silver candle- 
sticks still dancing the heys in my purse, which I 
shall be very willing to transfer to his.” 

“ In brief, mine honourable friends,” said Captain 
Dalgetty, again eyeing them both with an air of 
comic penetration, “ I find it would not be altoge- 
ther unacceptable to either of you, to have some 
token to remember the old soldier by, in case it 
shall please M‘Callum More to hang him up at the 
gate of his own castle. And doubtless it would be 
no small satisfaction to me, in such an event, that 
a noble and loyal cavalier like Sir Miles Musgrave, 


io6 TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 

or a worthy and hospitable chieftain like our excel- 
lent landlord, should act as my executor.” 

Both hastened to protest that they had no such 
object, and insisted again upon the impassable char- 
acter of the Highland paths. Angus M‘Aulay 
mumbled over a number of hard Gaelic names, de- 
scriptive of the difficult passes, precipices, corries, 
and heals, through which he said the road lay to 
Inverary, when old Donald, who had now entered, 
sanctioned his master’s account of these difficulties, 
by holding up his hands, and elevating his eyes, and 
shaking his head, at every guttural which M'Aulay 
pronounced. But all this did not move the inflex- 
ible Captain. 

“ My worthy friends,” said he, “ Gustavus is not 
new to the dangers of travelling, and the mountains 
of Bohemia ; and (no disparagement to the heals and 
corries Mr. Angus is pleased to mention, and of 
which Sir Miles, who never saw them, confirms the 
horrors,) these mountains may compete with the 
vilest roads in Europe. In fact, my horse hath 
a most excellent and social quality ; for although 
he cannot pledge in my cup, yet we share our loaf 
between us, ( e ) and it will be hard if he suffers famine 
where cakes or bannocks are to be found. And, to 
cut this matter short, I beseech you, my good 
friends, to observe the state of Sir Duncan Camp- 
bell’s palfrey, which stands in that stall before us, 
fat and fair ; and, in return for your anxiety on my 
account, I give you my honest asseveration, that 
while we travel the same road, both that palfrey 
and his rider shall lack for food before either Gus- 
tavus or I.” 

Having said this, he filled a large measure with 
corn, and walked up with it to his charger, who, 


/ 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 107 

by his low whinnying neigh, his pricked ears, and 
his pawing, showed how close the alliance was be- 
twixt him and his rider. Nor did he taste his corn 
until he had returned his master’s caresses, by lick- 
ing his hands and face. After this interchange of 
greeting, the steed began to his provender with an 
eager dispatch, which showed old military habits ; 
and the master, after looking on the animal with 
great complacency for about five minutes, said, — 
“ Much good may it do your honest heart, Gustavus ; 
— now must I go and lay in provant myself for the 
campaign.” 

He then departed, having first saluted the Eng- 
lishman and Angus M'Aulay, who remained look- 
ing at each other for some time in silence, and then 
burst out into a fit of laughter. 

“That fellow,” said Sir Miles Musgrave, “is 
formed to go through the world.” 

“ I shall think so too,” said M'Aulay, “ if he can 
slip through M‘Callum More’s fingers as easily as 
he has done through ours.” 

“ Do you think,” said the Englishman, “ that the 
Marquis will not respect, in Captain Dalgetty’s 
person, the laws of civilized war ?” 

“No more than I would respect a Lowland pro- 
clamation,” said Angus M‘Aulay. — “ But come 
along, it is time I were returning to my guests.” 


« 


CHAPTER IX. 


In a rebellion, 

When what’s not meet, but what must be, was law, 
Then were they chosen ; in a better hour, 

Let what is meet be said it must be meet, 

And throw their power i’ the dust. 

Coriolanus. 


In a small apartment, remote from the rest of the 
guests assembled at the castle, Sir Duncan Campbell 
was presented with every species of refreshment, 
and respectfully attended by Lord Menteith, and 
by Allan M'Aulay. His discourse with the latter 
turned upon a sort of hunting campaign, in which 
they had been engaged together against the Chil- 
dren of the Mist, with whom the Knight of Arden- 
vohr, as well as the M'Aulays, had a deadly and 
irreconcilable feud. Sir Duncan, however, speedily 
endeavoured to lead back the conversation to the 
subject of his present errand to the castle of Darn- 
linvarach. 

“ It grieved him to the very heart,” he said, “ to 
see that friends and neighbours, who should stand 
shoulder to shoulder, were likely to be engaged 
hand to hand in a cause which so little concerned 
them. What signifies it,” he said, “ to the High- 
land Chiefs, whether King or Parliament got up- 
permost? Were it not better to let them settle 
their own differences without interference, while 
the Chiefs, in the meantime, took the opportunity 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


109 


of establishing their own authority in a manner not 
to be called in question hereafter by either King or 
Parliament?” He reminded Allan M/Aulay that 
the measures taken in the last reign to settle the 
peace, as was alleged, of the Highlands, were in fact 
levelled at the patriarchal power of the Chieftains ; 
and he mentioned the celebrated settlement of the 
Fife Undertakers, as they were called, in the Lewis, 
as part of a deliberate plan, formed to introduce 
strangers among the Celtic tribes, to destroy by 
degrees their ancient customs and mode of govern- 
ment, and to despoil them of the inheritance of 
their fathers . 1 “ And yet, b he continued, address- 
ing Allan, “ it is for the purpose of giving despotic 
authority to the monarch by whom these designs 
have been nursed, that so many Highland Chiefs 
are upon the point of quarrelling with, and draw- 
ing the sword against, their neighbours, allies, and 
ancient confederates.” 

“ It is to my brother,” said Allan, “ it is to the 
eldest son of my father’s house, that the Knight of 
Ardenvohr must address these remonstrances. I 
am, indeed, the brother of Angus ; but in being so, 
I am only the first of his clansmen, and bound to 
show an example to the others by my cheerful and 
ready obedience to his commands.” 

“The cause also,” said Lord Menteith, interpos- 

1 In the reign of Jame3 VI., an attempt of rather an extra- 
ordinary kind was made to civilize the extreme northern part 
of the Hebridean Archipelago. That monarch granted the 
property of the Island of Lewis, as if it had been an unknown 
and savage country, to a number of Lowland gentlemen, called 
undertakers, chiefly natives of the shire of Fife, that they might 
colonize and settle there. The enterprise was at first success- 
ful, but the natives of the island, MacLeods and MacKenzies, 
rose on the Lowland adventurers, and put most of them to the 
sword. 


iio 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


ing, “ is far more general than Sir Duncan Camp- 
bell seems to suppose it. It is neither limited to 
Saxon nor to Gael, to mountain nor to strath, to 
Highlands nor to Lowlands. The question is, if 
we will continue to be governed by the unlimited 
authority assumed by a set of persons in no respect 
superior to ourselves, instead of returning to the 
natural government of the Prince against whom 
they have rebelled. And respecting the interest 
of the Highlands in particular,” he added, “ I crave 
Sir Duncan Campbell’s pardon for my plainness; 
but it seems very clear to me, that the only effect 
produced by the present usurpation, will be the ag- 
grandisement of one overgrown clan at the expense 
of every independent Chief in the Highlands.” 

“I will not reply to you, my lord,” said Sir 
Duncan Campbell, “ because I know your preju- 
dices, and from whom they are borrowed ; yet you 
will pardon my saying, that being at the head of a 
rival branch of the House of Graham, I have both 
read of and known an Earl of Menteith, who would 
have disdained to have been tutored in politics, or 
to have been commanded in war, by an Earl of 
Montrose.” 

“ You will find it in vain, Sir Duncan,” said Lord 
Menteith, haughtily, “ to set my vanity in arms 
against my principles. The King gave my ances- 
tors their title and rank ; and these shall never pre- 
vent my acting, in the royal cause, under any one 
who is better qualified than myself to be a com- 
mander-in-chief. Least of all, shall any miserable 
jealousy prevent me from placing my hand and 
sword under the guidance of the bravest, the most 
loyal, the most heroic spirit among our Scottish 
nobility.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


iii 


“Pity,” said Sir Duncan Campbell, “that you 
cannot add to his panegyric the farther epithets of 
the most steady, and the most consistent. But I 
have no purpose of debating these points with you, 
my lord,” waving his hand, as if to avoid farther 
discussion ; “ the die is cast with you ; allow me 
only to express my sorrow for the disastrous fate 
to which Angus M'Aulay’s natural rashness, and 
your lordship’s influence, are dragging my gallant 
friend Allan here, with his father’s clan, and many 
a brave man besides.” 

“The die is cast for us all, Sir Duncan,” replied 
Allan, looking gloomy, and arguing on his own 
hypochondriac feelings ; “ the iron hand of destiny 
branded our fate upon our forehead long ere we 
could form a wish, or raise a finger in our own 
behalf. Were this otherwise, by what means does 
the Seer ascertain the future from those shadowy 
presages which haunt his waking and his sleeping 
eye? Nought can be foreseen but that which is 
certain to happen.” 

Sir Duncan Campbell was about to reply, and 
the darkest and most contested point of metaphy- 
sics might have been brought into discussion be- 
twixt two Highland disputants, when the door 
opened, and Annot Lyle, with her clairshach in her 
hand, entered the apartment. The freedom of a 
Highland maiden was in her step and in her eye ; 
for, bred up in the closest intimacy with the Laird 
of M‘Aulay and his brother, with Lord Menteith, 
and other young men who frequented Darnlinva- 
rach, she possessed none of that timidity which a 
female, educated chiefly among her own sex, would 
either have felt, or thought necessary to assume, 
on an occasion like the present. 


1 1 2 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Her dress partook of the antique, for new fash- 
ions seldom penetrated into the Highlands, nor 
would they easily have found their way to a castle 
inhabited chiefly by men, whose sole occupation 
was war and the chase. Yet Annot’s garments 
were not only becoming, but even rich. Her open 
jacket, with a high collar, was composed of blue cloth, 
richly embroidered, and had silver clasps to fasten, 
when it pleased the wearer. Its sleeves, which 
were wide, came no lower than the elbow, and ter- 
minated in a golden fringe ; under this upper coat, 
if it can be so termed, she wore an under dress of 
blue satin, also richly embroidered, but which was 
several shades lighter in colour than the upper gar- 
ment. The petticoat was formed of tartan silk, in 
the set, or pattern, of which the colour of blue 
greatly predominated, so as to remove the tawdry 
effect too frequently produced in tartan, by the 
mixture and strong opposition of colours. An an- 
tique silver chain hung round her neck, and sup- 
ported the wrest , or key, with which she tuned her 
instrument. A small ruff rose above her collar, 
and was secured by a brooch of some value, an old 
keepsake from Lord Menteith. Her profusion of 
light hair almost hid her laughing eyes, while, 
with a smile and a blush, she mentioned that she 
had MAulay’s directions to ask them if they chose 
music. Sir Duncan Campbell gazed with consider- 
able surprise and interest at the lovely apparition, 
which thus interrupted his debate with Allan 
MAulay. 

“ Can this,” he said to him in a whisper, “ a crea- 
ture so beautiful and so elegant, be a domestic 
musician of your brother’s establishment ? ” 

“By no means,” answered Allan, hastily, yet 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 113 

with some hesitation ; “ she is a a — near rela- 

tion of our family — and treated,” he added, more 
firmly, “as an adopted daughter of our father’s 
house.” 

As he spoke thus, he arose from his seat, and 
with that air of courtesy which every Highlander 
can assume when it suits him to practise it, he re- 
signed it to Annot, and offered to her, at the same 
time, whatever refreshments the table afforded, 
with an assiduity which was probably designed to 
give Sir Duncan an impression of her rank and con- 
sequence. If such was Allan’s purpose, however, it 
was unnecessary. Sir Duncan kept his eyes fixed 
upon Annot with an expression of much deeper 
interest than could have arisen from any impres- 
sion that she was a person of consequence. Annot 
even felt embarrassed under the old knight’s steady 
gaze ; and it was not without considerable hesita- 
tion, that, tuning her instrument, and receiving an 
assenting look from Lord Menteith and Allan, she 
executed the following ballad, which our friend, 
Mr. Secundus MTherson, whose goodness we had 
before to acknowledge, has thus translated into the 
English tongue: 


THE ORPHAN MAID. 

November’s hail-cloud drifts away, 
November’s sunbeam wan 
Looks coldly on the castle grey, 
When forth comes Lady Anne. 

The orphan by the oak was set, 
Her arms, her feet, were bare, 
The hail-drops had not melted yet, 
Amid her raven hair. 

8 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


114 


“And, Dame,” she said, “by all the ties 
That child and mother know, 

Aid one who never knew these joys, 

Relieve an orphan’s woe.” 

The lady said, “An orphan’s state 
Is hard and sad to bear; 

Yet worse the widow’d mother’s fate, 

Who mourns both lord and heir. 

“ Twelve times the rolling year has sped, 

Since, when from vengeance wild 

Of fierce Strathallan’s Chief I fled, 

Forth’s eddies whelm’d my child.” 

“ Twelve times the year its course has bom,” 

The wandering maid replied, 

“Since fishers on St. Bridget’s morn 
Drew nets on Campsie side. 

“ St. Bridget sent no scaly spoil ; — 

All infant, wellnigh dead, 

They saved, and rear’d in want and toil. 

To beg from you her bread.” 

That orphan maid the lady kiss’d — 

“ My husband’s looks you bear ; 

St. Bridget and her morn be bless’d ! 

You are his widow’s heir.” 

They’ve robed that maid, so poor and pale, 

In silk arid sandals rare ; 

And pearls, for drops of frozen hail. 

Are glistening in her hair . 1 

1 The admirers of pure Celtic antiquity, notwithstanding the 
elegance of the above translation, may be desirous to see a literal 
version from the original Gaelic, which we therefore subjoin ; and 
have only to add, that the original is deposited with Mr. Jedediah 
Cleishbotham. 

Literal Translation. 

The hail-blast had drifted away upon the wings of the gale of 
autumn. The sun looked from between the clouds, pale as the 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


ii5 

While the song proceeded, Lord Menteith ob- 
served, with some surprise, that it appeared to pro- 
duce a much deeper effect upon the mind of Sir 
Duncan Campbell, than he could possibly have an- 
ticipated from his age and character. He well knew 
that the Highlanders of that period possessed a much 
greater sensibility both for tale and song than was 
found among their Lowland neighbours ; but even- 
this, he thought, hardly accounted for the embar- 
rassment with which the old man withdrew 'his 
eyes from the songstress, as if unwilling to suffer 
them to rest on an object so interesting. Still less 

wounded hero who rears his head feebly on the heath when the roar 
of battle hath passed over him. 

Finele, the Lady of the Castle, came forth to see her maidens pass 
to the herds with their leglins . 1 

There sat an orphan maiden beneath the old oak-tree of appoint- 
ment. The withered leaves fell around her, and her heart was more 
withered than they. 

The parent of the ice [poetically taken for the frost] still con- 
gealed the hail-drops in her hair ; they were like the specks of white 
ashes on the twisted boughs of the blackened and half-consumed oak 
that blazes in the hall. 

And the maiden said, “ Give me comfort, Lady, I am an orphan 
child.” And the Lady replied, “ How can I give that which I have 
not? I am the widow of a slain lord, — the mother of a perished 
child. When I fled in my fear from the vengeance of my husband’s 
foe. our hark was overwhelmed in the tide, and my infant perished. 
This was on St. Bridget's morn, near the strong Lyns of Campsie. 
May ill luck light upon the day.” And the maiden answered, “ It 
was on St. Bridget’s morn, and twelve harvests before this time, 
that the fishermen of Campsie drew in their nets neither grilse nor 
salmon, but an infant half dead, who hath since lived in misery, 
and must die, unless she is now aided.” And the Lady answered, 
“ Blessed be Saint Bridget and her morn, for these are the dark 
eyes and the falcon look of my slain lord ; and thine shall be the 
inheritance of his widow.” And she called for her waiting atten- 
dants, and she bade them clothe that maiden in silk, and in samite ; 
and the pearls which they wove among her black tresses, were 
whiter than the frozen hail-drops. 


1 Milk-pails. 


ii 6 TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

was it to be expected, that features which expressed 
pride, stern common sense, and the austere habit of 
authority, should have been so much agitated by so 
trivial a circumstance. As the Chiefs brow became 
clouded, he drooped his large shaggy grey eyebrows 
until they almost concealed his eyes, on the lids of 
which something like a tear might be seen to glisten. 
He remained silent and fixed in the same posture for 
a minute or two, after the last note had ceased to vi- 
brate. He then raised his head, and having looked 
at Annot Lyle, as if purposing to speak to her, he as 
suddenly changed that purpose, and was about to 
address Allan, when the door opened, and the Lord 
of the Castle made his appearance. 


CHAPTER X. 


Dark on their journey lour’d the gloomy day, 

Wild were the hills, and doubtful grew the way; 

More dark, more gloomy, and more doubtful, show’d 
The mansion, which received them from the road. 

The Travellers, a Romance. 


Angus M'Aulay was charged with a message which 
he seemed to find some difficulty in communicating; 
for it was not till after he had framed his speech 
several different ways, and blundered them all, that 
he succeeded in letting Sir Duncan Campbell know, 
that the cavalier who was to accompany him was 
waiting in readiness, and that all was prepared for 
his return to Inverary. Sir Duncan Campbell rose 
up very indignantly; the affront which this mes- 
sage implied immediately driving out of his recollec- 
tion the sensibility which had been awakened by the 
music. 

“ I little expected this,” he said, looking indig- 
nantly at Angus M/Aulay. “ I little thought that 
there was a Chief in the West Highlands, who, at 
the pleasure of a Saxon, would have bid the Knight 
of Ardenvohr leave his castle, when the sun was 
declining from the meridian, and ere the second 
cup had been filled. But farewell, sir, the food of 
a churl does not satisfy the appetite ; when I next 
revisit Darlinvarach, it shall be with a naked sword 
in one hand, and a firebrand in the other.” 

“And if you so come,” said Angus, “I pledge 
myself to meet you fairly, though you brought five 


iiS TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

hundred Campbells at your back, and to afford you 
and them such entertainment, that you shall not 
again complain of the hospitality of Darnlinvarach. ” 

“ Threatened men,” said Sir Duncan, “ live long. 
Your turn for gasconading, Laird of M‘Aulay, is 
too well known, that men of honour should regard 
your vaunts. To you, my lord, and to Allan, who 
have supplied the place of my churlish host, I leave 
my thanks. — And to you, pretty mistress,” he said, 
addressing Annot Lyle, “ this little token, for having 
opened a fountain which hath been dry for many 
a year.” So saying, he left the apartment, and 
commanded his attendants to be summoned. Angus 
M/Aulay, equally embarrassed and incensed at the 
charge of inhospitality, which was the greatest pos- 
sible affront to a Highlander, did not follow Sir 
Duncan to the court-yard, where, mounting his 
palfrey, which was in readiness, followed by six 
mounted attendants, and accompanied by the noble 
Captain Dalgetty, who had also awaited him, hold- 
ing Gustavus ready for action, though he did not 
draw his girths and mount till Sir Duncan appeared, 
the whole cavalcade left the castle. 

The journey was long and toilsome, but without 
any of the extreme privations which the Laird of 
M'Aulay had prophesied. In truth, Sir Duncan 
was very cautious to avoid those nearer and more 
secret paths, by means of which the county of Ar- 
gyle was accessible from the westward ; for his re- 
lation and chief, the Marquis, was used to boast, 
that he would not for a hundred thousand crowns 
any mortal should know the passes by which an 
armed force could penetrate into his country. 

Sir Duncan Campbell, therefore, rather shunned 
the Highlands, and falling into the Low-country, 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


ll 9 

made for the nearest seaport in the vicinity, where 
he had several half-decked galleys, or birlings, as 
they were called, at his command. In one of these 
they embarked, with Gustavus in company, who 
was so seasoned to adventure, that land and sea 
seemed as indifferent to him as to his master. 

The wind being favourable, they pursued their 
way rapidly with sails and oars ; and early the next 
morning it was announced to Captain Dalgetty, 
then in a small cabin beneath the half-deck, that 
the galley was under the walls of Sir Duncan Camp- 
bell's castle. 

Ardenvohr, accordingly, rose high above him, 
when he came upon the deck of the galley. It was 
a gloomy square tower, of considerable size and 
great height, situated upon a headland projecting 
into the salt-water lake, or arm of the sea, which 
they had entered on the preceding evening. A wall, 
with flanking towers at each angle, surrounded the 
castle to landward ; but, towards the lake, it was 
built so near the brink of the precipice as only to 
leave room for a battery of seven guns, designed to 
protect the fortress from any insult from that side, 
although situated too high to be of any effectual use 
according to the modern system of warfare. 

The eastern sun, rising behind the old tower, 
flung its shadow far on the lake, darkening the 
deck of the galley, on which Captain Dalgetty now 
walked, waiting with some impatience the signal 
to land. Sir Duncan Campbell, as he was informed 
by his attendants, was already within the walls of 
the castle ; but no one encouraged the Captain’s pro- 
posal of following him ashore, until, as they stated, 
they should receive the direct permission or order 
of the Knight of Ardenvohr. 


120 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


In a short time afterwards the mandate arrived, 
while a boat, with a piper in the how, bearing the 
Knight of Ardenvohr’s crest in silver upon his left 
arm, and playing with all his might the family 
march, entitled “ The Campbells are coming,” ap- 
proached to conduct the envoy of Montrose to the 
castle of Ardenvohr. The distance between the 
galley and the beach was so short as scarce to re- 
quire the assistance of the eight sturdy rowers, in 
bonnets, short coats, and trews, whose efforts sent 
the boat to the little creek in which they usually 
landed, before one could have conceived that it had 
left the side of the birling. Two of the boatmen, 
in spite of Dalgetty’s resistance, horsed the Captain 
on the back of a third Highlander, and, wading 
through the surf with him, landed him high and 
dry upon the beach beneath the castle rock. In the 
face of this rock there appeared something like the 
entrance of a low-browed cavern, towards which 
the assistants were preparing to hurry our friend 
Dalgetty, when, shaking himself loose from them 
with some difficulty, he insisted upon seeing Gus- 
tavus safely landed before he proceeded one step 
farther. The Highlanders could not comprehend 
what he meant, until one who had picked up a little 
English, or rather Lowland Scotch, exclaimed, 
“ Houts ! it’s a’ about her horse, ta useless baste.” 
Farther remonstrance on the part of Captain Dal- 
getty was interrupted by the appearance of Sir 
Duncan Campbell himself, from the mouth of the 
cavern which we have described, for the purpose of 
inviting Captain Dalgetty to accept of the hospi- 
tality of Ardenvohr, pledging his honour, at the 
same time, that Gustavus should be treated as be- 
came the hero from whom he derived his name, not 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


121 


to mention the important person to whom he now 
belonged. Notwithstanding this satisfactory gua- 
rantee, Captain Dalgetty would still have hesitated, 
such was his anxiety to witness the fate of his 
companion Gustavus, had not two Highlanders 
seized him by the arms, two more pushed him on 
behind, while a fifth exclaimed, “ Hout awa wi’ 
the daft Sassenach ! does she no hear the Laird 
bidding her up to her ain castle, wi’ her special 
voice, and isna that very mickle honour for the 
like o’ her?” 

Thus impelled, Captain Dalgetty could only for a 
short space keep a reverted eye towards the galley 
in which he had left the partner of his military 
toils. In a few minutes afterwards he found him- 
self involved in the total darkness of a staircase, 
which, entering from the low-browed cavern we 
have mentioned, winded upwards through the en- 
trails of the living rock. 

“ The cursed Highland salvages ! ” muttered the 
Captain, half aloud ; “ what is to become of me, if 
Gustavus, the namesake of the invincible Lion of 
the Protestant League, should be lamed among their 
untenty hands ! ” 

“ Have no fear of that,” said the voice of Sir Dun- 
can, who was nearer to him than he imagined ; “ my 
men are accustomed to handle horses, both in em- 
barking and dressing them, and you will soon see 
Gustavus as safe as when you last dismounted from 
his back.” 

Captain Dalgetty knew the world too well to of- 
fer any farther remonstrance, whatever uneasiness 
he might suppress within his own bosom. A step 
or two higher up the stair showed light and a door, 
and an iron-grated wicket led him out upon a gal- 


122 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


lery cut in the open face of the rock, extending a 
space of about six or eight yards, until he reached a 
second door, where the path re-entered the rock, and 
which was also defended by an iron portcullis. “An. 
admirable traverse,” observed the Captain ; “ and if 
commanded by a field-piece, or even a few muskets, 
quite sufficient to ensure the place against a storm- 
ing party.” 

Sir Duncan Campbell made no answer at the time ; 
but, the moment afterwards, when they had entered 
the second cavern, he struck with the stick which 
he had in his hand, first on the one side, and then 
on the other of the wicket, and the sullen ringing 
sound which replied to the blows, made Captain 
Dalgetty sensible that there was a gun placed 
on each side, for the purpose of raking the gallery 
through which they had passed, although the embras- 
ures, through which they might be fired on occasion, 
were masked on the outside with sods and loose 
stones. Having ascended the second staircase, they 
found themselves again on an open platform and 
gallery, exposed to a fire both of musketry and wall- 
guns, if, being come with hostile intent, they had 
ventured farther. A third flight of steps, cut in the 
rock like the former, but not caverned over, led 
them finally into the battery at the foot of the tower. 
This last stair also was narrow and steep, and, not 
to mention the fire which might be directed on it 
from above, one or two resolute men, with pikes and 
battle-axes, could have made the pass good against 
hundreds; for the staircase would not admit two 
persons abreast, and was not secured by any sort of 
balustrade, or railing, from the sheer and abrupt 
precipice, on the foot of which the tide now rolled 
with a voice of thunder. So that, under the jeal- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


123 


ous precautions used to secure this ancient Celtic 
fortress, a person of weak nerves, and a brain 
liable to become dizzy, might have found it some- 
thing difficult to have achieved the entrance to 
the castle, even supposing no resistance had been 
offered. 

Captain Dalgetty, too old a soldier to feel such 
tremors, had no sooner arrived in the court-yard, 
than he protested to God, the defences of Sir Dun- 
can’s castle reminded him more of the notable 
fortress of Spandau, situated in the March of Bran- 
denburg, than of any place whilk it had been his 
fortune to defend in the course of his travels. Nev- 
ertheless, he criticised considerably the mode of 
placing the guns on the battery we have noticed, 
observing, that “ where cannon were perched, like to 
scarts or sea-gulls, on the top of a rock, he had ever 
observed that they astonished more by their noise 
than they dismayed by the skaith or damage which 
they occasioned.” 

Sir Duncan, without replying, conducted the sol- 
dier into the tower ; the defences of which were a 
portcullis and iron-clenched oaken door, the thick- 
ness of the wall being the space between them. He 
had no sooner arrived in a hall hung with tapestry, 
than the Captain prosecuted his military criticism. 
It was indeed suspended by the sight of an excel- 
lent breakfast, of which he partook with great avid- 
ity ; but no sooner had he secured this meal, than 
he made the tour of the apartment, examining the 
ground around the Castle very carefully from each 
window in the room. He then returned to his chair, 
and throwing himself back into it at his length, 
stretched out one manly leg, and tapping his jack- 
boot with the riding-rod which he carried in his 


124 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


hand, after the manner of a half-bred man who af- 
fects ease in the society of his betters, he delivered 
his unasked opinion as follows : — “ This house of 
yours, now, Sir Duncan, is a very pretty defensible 
sort of a tenement, and yet it is hardly such as a 
cavaliero of honour would expect to maintain his 
credit by holding out for many days. For, Sir 
Duncan, if it pleases you to notice, your house is 
overcrowed, and slighted, or commanded, as we mili- 
tary men say, by yonder round hillock to the land- 
ward, whereon an enemy might stell such a battery 
of cannon as would make ye glad to beat a chamade 
within forty-eight hours, unless it pleased the Lord 
extraordinarily to show mercy.” 

“ There is no road,” replied Sir Duncan, somewhat 
shortly, “ by which cannon can be brought against 
Ardenvohr. The swamps and morasses around my 
house would scarce carry your horse and yourself, 
excepting by such paths as could be rendered im- 
passable within a few hours.” 

“ Sir Duncan,” said the Captain, “ it is your pleas- 
ure to suppose so ; and yet we martial men say, that 
where there is a sea-coast there is always a naked side, 
seeing that cannon and munition, where they cannot 
be transported by land, may be right easily brought 
by sea near to the place where they are to be put in 
action. Neither is a castle, however secure in its 
situation, to be accounted altogether invincible, or, 
as they say, impregnable; for I protest t’ye, Sir 
Duncan, that I have known twenty-five men, by the 
mere surprise and audacity of the attack, win, at 
point of pike, as strong a hold as this of Ardenvohr, 
and put to the sword, captivate, or hold to the 
ransom, the defenders, being ten times their own 
number.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


125 


Notwithstanding Sir Duncan Campbell’s know- 
ledge of the world, and his power of concealing his 
internal emotion, he appeared piqued and hurt at 
these reflections, which the Captain made with the 
most unconscious gravity, having merely selected 
the subject of conversation as one upon which he 
thought himself capable of shining, and, as they say, 
of laying down the law, without exactly recollecting 
that the topic might not be equally agreeable to his 
landlord. 

“ To cut this matter short,” said Sir Duncan, 
with an expression of voice and countenance some- 
what agitated, “it is unnecessary for you to tell 
me, Captain Dalgetty, that a castle may be stormed 
if it is not valorously defended, or surprised if it 
is not heedfully watched. I trust this poor house 
of mine will not be found in any of these predica- 
ments, should even Captain Dalgetty himself choose 
to beleaguer it.” 

“For all that, Sir Duncan,” answered the perse- 
vering commander, “ I would premonish you, as a 
friend, to trace out a sconce upon that round hill, 
with a good graffe, or ditch, whilk may be easily 
accomplished by compelling the labour of the boors 
in the vicinity ; it being the custom of the valorous 
Gustavus Adolphus to fight as much by the spade 
and shovel, as by sword, pike, and musket. Also, 
I would advise you to fortify the said sconce, not 
only by a foussie, or graffe, but also by certain 
stackets, or palisades.” — (Here Sir Duncan, be- 
coming impatient, left the apartment, the Captain 
following him to the door, and raising his voice as 
he retreated, until he was fairly out of hearing.) — 
“The whilk stackets, or palisades, should be arti- 
ficially framed with re-entering angles and loop- 


126 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


holes, or crenelles, for musketry, whereof it shall 

arise that the foemen The Highland brute ! the 

old Highland brute ! They are as proud as pea- 
cocks, and as obstinate as tups — and here he has 
missed an opportunity of making his house as 
pretty an irregular fortification as an invading 
army ever broke their teeth upon. — But I see,” he 
continued, looking down from the window upon the 
bottom of the precipice, “they have got Gustavus 
safe ashore — Proper fellow ! I would know that 
toss of his head among a whole squadron. I must 
go to see what they are to make of him.” 

He had no sooner reached, however, the court 
to the seaward, and put himself in the act of de- 
scending the staircase, than two Highland senti- 
nels, advancing their Lochaber axes, gave him to 
understand that this was a service of danger. 

“ Diavolo ! ” said the soldier, “ and I have got 
no pass-word. I could not speak a syllable of their 
salvage gibberish, an it were to save me from the 
provost-marshal .’ * 

“ I will be your surety, Captain Dalgetty,” said 
Sir Duncan, who had again approached him with- 
out his observing from whence ; “ and we will go 
together, and see how your favourite charger is 
accommodated.” 

He conducted him accordingly down the stair- 
case to the beach, and from thence by a short turn 
behind a large rock, which concealed the stables 
and other offices belonging to the castle. Captain 
Dalgetty became sensible, at the same time, that 
the side of the castle to the land was rendered to- 
tally inaccessible by a ravine, partly natural and 
partly scarped with great care and labour, so as to 
be only passed by a drawbridge. Still, however, 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


127 


the Captain insisted, notwithstanding the trium- 
phant air with which Sir Duncan pointed out his 
defences, that a sconce should be erected on Drums- 
nab, the round eminence to the east of the castle, 
in respect the house might be annoyed from thence 
by burning bullets full of fire, shot out of cannon, 
according to the curious invention of Stephen Ba- 
thian, (/) King of Poland, whereby that prince utterly 
ruined the great Muscovite city of Moscow. This 
invention, Captain Dalgetty owned, he had not yet 
witnessed, but observed, “that it would give him 
particular delectation to witness the same put to 
the proof against Ardenvohr, or any other castle 
of similar strength ; ” observing, “ that so curious 
an experiment could not but afford the greatest de- 
light to all admirers of the military art.” 

Sir Duncan Campbell diverted this conversation 
by carrying the soldier into his stables, and suffer- 
ing him to arrange Gustavus according to his own 
will and pleasure. After this duty had been care- 
fully performed, Captain Dalgetty proposed to re- 
turn to the castle, observing, it was his intention to 
spend the time betwixt this and dinner, which, he 
presumed, would come upon the parade about noon, 
in burnishing his armour, which having sustained 
some injury from the sea-air, might, he was afraid, 
seem discreditable in the eyes of M'Callum More. 
Yet, while they were returning to the castle, he 
failed not to warn Sir Duncan Campbell against the 
great injury he might sustain by any sudden onfall 
of an enemy, whereby his horses, cattle, and gran- 
aries, might be cut off and consumed, to his great 
prejudice ; wherefore he again strongly conjured 
him to construct a sconce upon the round hill called 
Drumsnab, and offered his own friendly services in 


128 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


lining out the same. To this disinterested advice 
Sir Duncan only replied by ushering his guest to 
his apartment, and informing him that the tolling of 
the castle bell would make him aware when dinner 
was ready. 


CHAPTER XI. 

• 

Is this thy castle, Baldwin ? Melancholy 
Displays her sable banner from the donjon, 

Darkening the foam of the whole surge beneath. 

W ere I a habitant, to see this gloom 

Pollute the face of nature, and to hear 

The ceaseless sound of wave, and seabird’s scream, 

I’d wish me in the hut that poorest peasant 
E’er framed, to give him temporary shelter. 

Brown. 

The gallant Eitt-master would willingly have em- 
ployed his leisure in studying the exterior of Sir 
Duncan’s castle, and verifying his own military 
ideas upon the nature of its defences. But a stout 
sentinel, who mounted guard with a Lochaber-axe 
at the door of his apartment, gave him to under- 
stand, by very significant signs, that he was in a 
sort of honourable captivity. 

It is strange, thought the Eitt-master to him- 
self, how well these salvages understand the rules 
and practique of war. Who would have pre-sup- 
posed their acquaintance with the maxim of the 
great and godlike Gustavus Adolphus, that a flag 
of truce should be half a messenger half a spy ? — 
And, having finished burnishing his arms, he sate 
down patiently to compute how much half a dollar 
per diem would amount to at the end of a six- 
months’ campaign ; and, when he had settled that 
problem, proceeded to the more abstruse calcula- 
tions necessary for drawing up a brigade of two 


130 TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

thousand men on the principle of extracting the 
square root. 

From his musings, he was roused by the joyful 
sound of the dinner bell, on which the Highlander, 
lately his guard, became his gentleman-usher, and 
marshalled him to the hall, where a table with four 
covers bore ample proofs of Highland hospitality. 
Sir Duncan entered, conducting his lady, a tall, 
faded, melancholy female, dressed in deep mourning. 
They were followed by a Presbyterian clergyman, 
in his Geneva cloak, and wearing a black silk skull- 
cap, covering his short hair so closely, that it could 
scarce be seen at all, so that the unrestricted ears 
had an undue predominance in the general aspect. 
This ungraceful fashion was universal at the time, 
and partly led to the nicknames of roundheads, 
prick-eared curs, and so forth, which the insolence 
of the cavaliers liberally bestowed on their political 
enemies. 

Sir Duncan presented his military guest to his 
lady> who received his technical salutation with a 
stiff and silent reverence, in which it could scarce 
be judged whether pride or melancholy had the 
greater share. The churchman, to whom he was 
next presented, eyed him with a glance of mingled 
dislike and curiosity. 

The Captain, well accustomed to worse looks from 
more dangerous persons, cared very little either for 
those of the lady or of the divine, but bent his whole 
soul upon assaulting a huge piece of beef, which 
smoked at the nether end of the table. But the on- 
slaught, as he would have termed it, was delayed, 
until the conclusion of a very long grace, betwixt 
every section of which Dalgetty handled his knife 
and fork, as he might have done his musket or pike 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


131 

when going upon action, and as often resigned them 
unwillingly when the prolix chaplain commenced an- 
other clause of his benediction. Sir Duncan listened 
with decency, though he was supposed rather to 
have joined the Covenanters out of devotion to his 
chief, than real respect for the cause either of liberty 
or of Presbytery. His lady alone attended to the 
blessing, with symptoms of deep acquiescence. 

The meal was performed almost in Carthusian 
silence ; for it was none of Captain Dalgetty’s habits 
to employ his mouth in talking, while it could be 
more profitably occupied. Sir Duncan was abso- 
lutely silent, and the lady and churchman only 
occasionally exchanged a few words, spoken low, and 
indistinctly. 

But, when the dishes were removed, and their 
place supplied by liquors of various sorts, Captain 
Dalgetty no longer had, himself, the same weighty 
reasons for silence, and began to tire of that of the 
rest of the company. He commenced a new attack 
upon his landlord, upon the former ground. 

“ Touching that round monticle, or hill, or emi- 
nence, termed Drumsnab, I would be proud to hold 
some dialogue with you, Sir Duncan, on the nature 
of the sconce to be there constructed ; and whether 
the angles thereof should be acute or obtuse — anent 
whilk I have heard the great Yelt-Mareschal Ban- 
nier hold a learned argument with General Tiefen- 
bach during a still-stand of arms.” 

“ Captain Dalgetty,” answered Sir Duncan very 
dryly, “ it is not our Highland usage to debate mil- 
itary points with strangers. This castle is like to 
hold out against a stronger enemy than any force 
which the unfortunate gentlemen we left at Darn- 
linvarach are able to bring against it.” 


132 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


A deep sigh from the lady accompanied the con- 
clusion of her husband’s speech, which seemed to 
remind her of some painful circumstance. 

“He who gave,” said the clergyman, addressing 
her in a solemn tone, “ hath taken away. May you, 
honourable lady, be long enabled to say, Blessed be 
his name ! ” 

To this exhortation, which seemed intended for 
her sole behoof, the lady answered by an inclina- 
tion of her head, more humble than Captain Dal- 
getty had yet observed her make. Supposing he 
should now find her in a more conversible humour, 
he proceeded to accost her. 

“ It is indubitably very natural that your lady- 
ship should be downcast at the mention of military 
preparations, whilk I have observed to spread per- 
turbation among women of all nations, and almost 
all conditions. Nevertheless, Penthesilea, in an- 
cient times, and also Joan of Arc, and others, were 
of a different kidney. And, as I have learned while 
I served the Spaniard, the Duke of Alva in former 
times had the leaguer-lasses who followed his camp 
marshalled into tertias, (whilk we call regiments,) 
and officered and commanded by those of their own 
feminine gender, and regulated by a commander- 
in-chief, called in German Hureweibler, or, as we 
would say vernacularly, Captain of the Queans. 
True it is, they were persons not to be named as 
parallel to your ladyship, being such quce qucestum 
corporibus faciebant, as we said of Jean Drochiels 
at Mareschal-College ; the same whom the French 
term curtisannes, and we in Scottish ” 

“ The lady will spare you the trouble of further 
exposition, Captain Dalgetty,” said his host, some- 
what sternly ; to which the clergyman added, “ that 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


133 


such discourse better befitted a watch-tower guarded 
by profane soldiery than the board of an honour- 
able person, and the presence of a lady of quality.” 

“Craving your pardon, Dominie, or Doctor, aut 
quocunque alio nomine gaudes, for I would have 
you to know I have studied polite letters,” said the 
unabashed envoy, filling a great cup of wine, “ I 
see no ground for your reproof, seeing I did not 
speak of those turpes personae , as if their occupation 
or character was a proper subject of conversation 
for this lady’s presence, but simply par accidens, as 
illustrating the matter in hand, namely, their nat- 
ural courage and audacity, much enhanced, doubt- 
less, by the desperate circumstances of their 
condition.” 

“Captain Dalgetty,” said Sir Duncan Campbell, 
“to break short this discourse, I must acquaint 
you, that I have some business to dispatch to- 
night, in order to enable me to ride with you to- 
morrow towards Inverary ; and therefore ” 

“ To ride with this person to-morrow ! ” ex- 
claimed his lady ; “ such cannot be your purpose, Sir 
Duncan, unless you have forgotten that the morrow 
is a sad anniversary, and dedicated to as sad a 
solemnity.” 

“ I had not forgotten,” answered Sir Duncan ; 
“how is it possible I can ever forget? but the 
necessity of the times requires I should send this 
officer onward to Inverary, without loss of time.” 

“ Yet, surely, not that you should accompany 
him in person ? ” enquired the lady. 

“It were better I did,” said Sir Duncan; “yet 
I can write to the Marquis, and follow on the sub- 
sequent day. — Captain Dalgetty, I will dispatch a 
letter for you, explaining to the Marquis of Argyle 


134 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


your character and commission, with which you 
will please to prepare to travel to Inverary early 
to-morrow morning.” 

“ Sir Duncan Campbell,” said Dalgetty, “ I am 
doubtless at your discretionary disposal in this mat- 
ter ; not the less, I pray you to remember the blot 
which will fall upon your own escutcheon, if you 
do in any way suffer me, being a commissionate 
flag of truce, to be circumvented in this matter, 
whether clam , vi, vel precario ; I do not say by 
your assent to any wrong done to me, but even 
through absence of any due care on your part to 
prevent the same.” 

“ You are under the safeguard of my honour, sir,” 
answered Sir Duncan Campbell, “ and that is more 
than a sufficient security. And now,” continued 
he, rising, “ I must set the example of retiring.” 

Dalgetty saw himself under the necessity of fol- 
lowing the hint, though the hour was early ; but, 
like a skilful general, he availed himself of every 
instant of delay which circumstances permitted. 
“ Trusting to your honourable parole,” said he, fill- 
ing his cup, “ I drink to you, Sir Duncan, and to 
the continuance of your honourable house.” A 
sigh from Sir Duncan was the only reply. — “ Also, 
madam,” said the soldier, replenishing the quaigh 
with all possible dispatch, “ I drink to your honour- 
able health, and fulfilment of all your virtuous 
desires — and, reverend sir,” (not forgetting to fit 
the action to the words,) “I fill this cup to the 
drowning of all unkindness betwixt you and Cap- 
tain Dalgetty — I should say Major — and, in 
respect the flagon contains but one cup more, I 
drink to the health of all honourable cavaliers and 
brave soldados — and, the flask being empty, I am 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


135 


ready, Sir Duncan, to attend your functionary or 
sentinel to my place of private repose.” 

He received a formal permission to retire, and 
an assurance, that as the wine seemed to be to his 
taste, another measure of the same vintage should 
attend him presently, in order to soothe the hours 
of his solitude. 

No sooner had the Captain reached the apart- 
ment than this promise was fulfilled; and, in a 
short time afterwards, the added comforts of a 
pasty of red-deer venison rendered him very tolerant 
both of confinement and want of society. The same 
domestic, a sort of chamberlain, who placed this 
good cheer in his apartment, delivered to Dalgetty 
a packet, sealed and tied up with a silken thread, 
according to the custom of the time, addressed with 
many forms of respect to the High and Mighty 
Prince, Archibald, Marquis of Argyle, Lord of 
Lome, and so forth. The chamberlain at the same 
time apprized the Ritt-master, that he must take 
horse at an early hour for Inverary, where the 
packet of Sir Duncan would be at once his intro- 
duction and his passport. Not forgetting that it 
was his object to collect information as well as to 
act as an envoy, and desirous, for his own sake, to 
ascertain Sir Duncan’s reasons for sending him 
onward without his personal attendance, the Ritt- 
master enquired of the domestic, with all the pre- 
caution that his experience suggested, what were the 
reasons which detained Sir Duncan at home on the 
succeeding day. The man, who was from the Low- 
lands, replied, “ that it was the habit of Sir Duncan 
and his lady to observe as a day of solemn fast and 
humiliation the anniversary on which their castle 
had been taken by surprise, and their children, to 


■136 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


the number of four, destroyed cruelly by a band of 
Highland freebooters during Sir Duncan’s absence 
upon an expedition which the Marquis of Argyle 
had undertaken against the Macleans of the Isle of 
Mull.” 

“ Truly,” said the soldier, “ your lord and lady 
have some cause for fast and humiliation. Never- 
theless, I will venture to pronounce, that if he had 
taken the advice of any experienced soldier, having 
skill in the practiques of defending places of advan- 
tage, he would have built a sconce upon the small 
hill which is to the left of the draw-brigg. And 
this I can easily prove to you, mine honest friend ; 
for, holding that pasty to be the castle — What’s 
your name, friend ? ” 

“ Lorimer, sir,” replied the man. 

“ Here is to your health, honest Lorimer. — I 
say, Lorimer — holding that pasty to be the main 
body or citadel of the place to be defended, and 
taking the marrow-bone for the sconce to be 
erected ” 

“I am sorry, sir,” said Lorimer, interrupting 
him, “ that I cannot stay to hear the rest of your 
demonstration ; but the bell will presently ring. 
As worthy Mr. Graneangowl, the Marquis’s own 
chaplain, does family worship, and only seven of 
our household out of sixty persons understand the 
Scottish tongue, it would misbecome any one of 
them to be absent, and greatly prejudice me in the 
opinion of my lady. There are pipes and tobacco, 
sir, if you please to drink a whiff of smoke, and if 
you want any thing else, it shall be forthcoming 
two hours hence, when prayers are over.” So say- 
ing, he left the apartment. / 

No sooner was he gone, than the heavy toll of 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


137 


the castle-bell summoned its inhabitants together; 
and was answered by the shrill clamour of the 
females, mixed with the deeper tones of the men, 
as, talking Earse at the top of their throats, they 
hurried from different quarters by a long but narrow 
gallery, which served as a communication to many 
rooms, and, among others, to that in which Cap- 
tain Dalgetty was stationed. There they go as if 
they were beating to the roll-call, thought the sol- 
dier to himself ; if they all attend the parade, I will 
look out, take a mouthful of fresh air, and make 
mine own observations on the practicabilities of 
this place. 

Accordingly, when all was quiet, he opened his 
chamber-door, and prepared to leave it, when he 
saw his friend with the axe advancing towards him 
from the distant end of the gallery, half whistling, 
half humming, a Gaelic tune. To have shown any 
want of confidence, would have been at once im- 
politic, and unbecoming his military character ; so 
the Captain, putting the best face upon his situation 
he could, whistled a Swedish retreat, in a tone still 
louder than the notes of his sentinel ; and retreat- 
ing pace by pace, with an air of indifference, as if 
his only purpose had been to breathe a little fresh 
air, he shut the door in the face of his guard, when 
the fellow had approached within a few paces of 
him. 

It is very well, thought the Ritt-master to him- 
self ; he annuls my parole by putting guards upon 
me, for, as we used to say at Mareschal-College, 
fides et fiducia sunt relativa ; 1 and if he does not 
trust my word, I do not see how I am bound to 
keep it, if any motive should occur for my desiring 

1 Note I. — Fides et fiducia sunt relativa. 


138 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


to depart from it. Surely the moral obligation of 
the parole is relaxed, in as far as physical force is 
substituted instead thereof. 

Thus comforting himself in the metaphysical im- 
munities which he deduced from the vigilance of his 
sentinel, Ritt-master Dalgetty retired to his apart- 
ment, where, amid the theoretical calculations of 
tactics, and the occasional more practical attacks on 
the flask and pasty, he consumed the evening until 
it was time to go to repose. He was summoned by 
Lorimer at break of day, who gave him to under- 
stand, that, when he had broken his fast, for which 
he produced ample materials, his guide and horse 
were in attendance for his journey to Inverary. 
After complying with the hospitable hint of the 
chamberlain, the soldier proceeded to take horse. 
In passing through the apartments, he observed 
that domestics were busily employed in hanging 
the great hall with black cloth, a ceremony which, 
he said, he had seen practised when the immortal 
Gustavus Adolphus lay in state in the Castle of 
Wolgast, and which, therefore, he opined, was a 
testimonial of the strictest and deepest mourning. 

When Dalgetty mounted his steed, he found him- 
self attended, or perhaps guarded, by five or six 
Campbells, well armed, commanded by one, who, 
from the target at his shoulder, and the short cock’s 
feather in his bonnet, as well as from the state which 
he took upon himself, claimed the rank of a Dunnie- 
wassel, or clansman of superior rank ; and indeed, 
from his dignity of deportment, could not stand in 
a more distant degree of relationship to Sir Duncan, 
than that of tenth or twelfth cousin at farthest. But 
it was impossible to extract positive information on 
this or any other subject, inasmuch as neither this 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


39 


commander nor any of his party spoke English. The 
Captain rode, and his military attendants walked ; 
but such was their activity, and so numerous the 
impediments which the nature of the road presented 
to the equestrian mode of travelling, that far from 
being retarded by the slowness of their pace, his 
difficulty was rather in keeping up with his guides. 
He observed that they occasionally watched him 
with a sharp eye, as if they were jealous of some 
effort to escape ; and once, as he lingered behind at 
crossing a brook, one of the gillies began to blow 
the match of his piece, giving him to understand 
that he would run some risk in case of an attempt 
to part company. Dalgetty did not augur much 
good from the close watch thus maintained upon 
his person ; but there was no remedy, for an at- 
tempt to escape from his attendants in an imper- 
vious and unknown country, would have been little 
short of insanity. He therefore plodded patiently 
on through a waste and savage wilderness, treading 
paths which were only known to the shepherds and 
cattle-drivers, and passing with much more of dis- 
comfort than satisfaction many of those sublime 
combinations of mountainous scenery which now 
draw visitors from every corner of England, to feast 
their eyes upon Highland grandeur, and mortify 
their palates upon Highland fare. 

At length they arrived on the southern verge of 
that noble lake upon which Inverary is situated ; 
and a bugle, which the Dunniewassel winded till 
rock and greenwood rang, served as a signal to a 
well-manned galley, which, starting from a creek 
where it lay concealed, received the party on board, 
including Gustavus; which sagacious quadruped, an 
experienced traveller both by water and land, walked 


i4o TALES 0E MY LANDLORD. 

in and out of the boat with the discretion of a 
Christian. 

Embarked on the bosom of Loch Fine, Captain 
Dalgetty might have admired one of the grandest 
scenes which nature affords. He might have noticed 
the rival rivers Aray and Shiray, which pay tribute 
to the lake, each issuing from its own dark and 
wooded retreat. He might have marked, on the soft 
and gentle slope that ascends from the shores, the 
noble old Gothic castle, with its varied outline, em- 
battled walls, towers, and outer and inner courts, 
which, so far as the picturesque is concerned, pre- 
sented an aspect much more striking than the pres- 
ent massive and uniform mansion. He might have 
admired those dark woods which for many a mile 
surrounded this strong and princely dwelling, and 
his eye might have dwelt on the picturesque peak 
of Duniquoich, starting abruptly from the lake, and 
raising its scathed brow into the mists of middle 
sky, while a solitary watch-tower, perched on its 
top like an eagle’s nest, gave dignity to the scene 
by awakening a sense of possible danger. All these, 
and every other accompaniment of this noble scene, 
Captain Dalgetty might have marked, if he had 
been so minded. But, to confess the truth, the 
gallant Captain, who had eaten nothing since day- 
break, was chiefly interested by the smoke which 
ascended from the castle chimneys, and the ex- 
pectations which this seemed to warrant of his 
encountering an abundant stock of provant, as he 
was wont to call supplies of this nature. 

The boat soon approached the rugged pier, which 
abutted into the loch from the little town of In- 
verary, then a rude assemblage of huts, with a very 
few stone mansions interspersed, stretching up- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 141 

wards from the banks of Loch Fine to the principal 
gate of the castle, before which a scene presented 
itself that might easily have quelled a less stout 
heart, and turned a more delicate stomach, than 
those of Ritt-master Dugald Dalgetty, titular of 
Drumthwacket. {g ) 


CHAPTER XII. 


For close designs and crooked counsels fit, 

Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit, 

Restless, unfix’d in principle and place, 

In power unpleased, impatient in disgrace. 

Absalom and Achitophel . 

The village of Inverary, now a neat country town, 
then partook of the rudeness of the seventeenth 
century, in the miserable appearance of the houses, 
and the irregularity of the unpaved street. But a 
stronger and more terrible characteristic of the 
period appeared in the market-place, which was a 
space of irregular width, half way betwixt the har- 
bour, or pier, and the frowning castle gate, which 
terminated with its gloomy archway, portcullis, 
and flankers, the upper end of the vista. Mid- 
way this space was erected a rude gibbet, on which 
hung five dead bodies, two of which from their dress 
seemed to have been Lowlanders, and the other three 
corpses were muffled in their Highland plaids. Two 
or three women sate under the gallows, who seemed 
to be mourning, and singing the coronach of the 
deceased in a low voice. But the spectacle was 
apparently of too ordinary occurrence to have much 
interest for the inhabitants at large, who, while they 
thronged to look at the military figure, the horse 
of an unusual size, and the burnished panoply of 
Captain Dalgetty, seemed to bestow no attention 
whatever on the piteous spectacle which their own 
market-place afforded. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


M3 


The envoy of Montrose was not quite so indif- 
ferent ; and, hearing a word or two of English 
escape from a Highlander of decent appearance, 
he immediately halted Gustavus and addressed 
him. “ The Provost-Marshall has been busy here, 
my friend. May I crave of you what these delin- 
quents have been justified for ? ” 

He looked towards the gibbet as he spoke ; and 
the Gael, comprehending his meaning rather by 
his action than his words, immediately replied, 
“ Three gentlemen caterans, — God sain them ” 
(crossing himself) — “ twa Sassenach bits o’ bodies, 
that wadna do something that M'Callum More 
bade them ; ” and turning from Dalgetty with an 
air of indifference, away he walked, staying no far- 
ther question. 

Dalgetty shrugged his shoulders and proceeded, 
for Sir Duncan Campbell's tenth or twelfth cousin 
had already shown some signs of impatience. 

At the gate of the castle another terrible spec- 
tacle of feudal power awaited him. Within a 
stockade or palisado, which seemed lately to have 
been added to the defences of the gate, and which 
was protected by two pieces of light artillery, was 
a small enclosure, where stood a huge block, on 
which lay an axe. Both were smeared with recent 
blood, and a quantity of saw-dust strewed around, 
partly retained and partly obliterated the marks of 
a very late execution. 

As Dalgetty looked on this new object of terror, 
his principal guide suddenly twitched him by the 
skirt of his jerkin, and having thus attracted his 
attention, winked and pointed with his finger to a 
pole fixed on the stockade, which supported a hu- 
man head, being that, doubtless, of the late sufferer. 


144 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD, 


There was a leer on the Highlander’s face, as he 
pointed to this ghastly spectacle, which seemed to 
his fellow-traveller ominous of nothing good. 

Dalgetty dismounted from his horse at the gate- 
way, and Gustavus was taken from him without 
his being permitted to attend him to the stable, 
according to his custom. 

This gave the soldier a pang which the appara- 
tus of death had not conveyed. — “ Poor Gustavus ! ” 
said he to himself, “ if any thing but good happens 
to me, I had better have left him at Darnlinvarach 
than brought him here among these Highland sal- 
vages, who scarce know the head of a horse from 
his tail. But duty must part a man from his near- 
est and dearest — 

‘ When the cannons are roaring, lads, and the colours are 

dying, 

The lads that seek honour must never fear dying ; 

Then, stout cavaliers, let us toil our brave trade in, 

And fight for the Gospel and the bold King of Sweden.* ” 

Thus silencing his apprehensions with the but-end 
of a military ballad, he followed his guide into a 
sort of guard-room filled with armed Highlanders. 
It was intimated to him that he must remain here 
until his arrival was communicated to the Marquis. 
To make this communication the more intelligible, 
the doughty Captain gave to the Dunniewassel Sir 
Duncan Campbell’s packet, desiring, as well as 
he could, by signs, that it should be delivered into 
the Marquis’s own hand. His guide nodded, and 
withdrew. 

The Captain was left about half an hour in this 
place, to endure with indifference, or return with 
scorn, the inquisitive, and, at the same time, the 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


145 


inimical glances of the armed Gael, to whom his 
exterior and equipage were as much subject of curi- 
osity, as his person and country seemed matter of 
dislike. All this he bore with military noncha- 
lance, until, at the expiration of the above period, a 
person dressed in black velvet, and wearing a gold 
chain like a modern magistrate of Edinburgh, hut 
who was, in fact, steward of the household to the 
Marquis of Argyle, entered the apartment, and in- 
vited, with solemn gravity, the Captain to follow 
him to his master’s presence. 

The suite of apartments through which he passed, 
were filled with attendants or visitors of various 
descriptions, disposed, perhaps, with some ostenta- 
tion, in order to impress the envoy of Montrose 
with an idea of the superior power and magnificence 
belonging to the rival house of Argyle. One ante- 
room was filled with lacqueys, arrayed in brown 
and yellow, the colours of the family, who, ranged 
in double file, gazed in silence upon Captain Dal- 
getty as he passed betwixt their ranks. Another 
was occupied by Highland gentlemen and chiefs of 
small branches, who were amusing themselves with 
chess, backgammon, and other games, *which they 
scarce intermitted to gaze with curiosity upon the 
stranger. A third was filled with Lowland gentle- 
men and officers, who seemed also in attendance ; 
and, lastly, the presence-chamber of the Marquis 
himself showed him attended by a levee which 
marked his high importance. 

This apartment, the folding doors of which were 
opened for the reception of Captain Dalgetty, was 
a long gallery, decorated with tapestry and family 
portraits, and having a vaulted ceiling of open wood- 
work, the extreme projections of the beams being 
10 


146 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


richly carved and gilded. The gallery was lighted 
by long lanceolated Gothic casements, divided by 
heavy shafts, and filled with painted glass, where 
the sunbeams glimmered dimly through boars’^ 
heads, and galleys, and batons, and swords, armo- 
rial bearings of the powerful house of Argyle, and 
emblems of the high hereditary offices of Justiciary 
of Scotland, and Master of the Royal Household, 
which they long enjoyed. At the upper end of this 
magnificent gallery stood the Marquis himself, the 
centre of a splendid circle of Highland and Lowland 
gentlemen, all richly dressed, among whom were 
two or three of the clergy, called in, perhaps, to be 
witnesses of his lordship’s zeal for the Covenant. 

The Marquis himself was dressed in the fashion 
of the period, which Vandyke has so often painted; 
but his habit was sober and uniform in colour, and 
rather rich than gay. His' dark complexion, fur- 
rowed forehead, and downcast look, gave him the 
appearance of one frequently engaged in the. consid- 
eration of important affairs, and who has acquired, 
by long habit, an air of gravity and mystery, which 
he cannot shake off even where there is nothing to 
be concealed. The cast with his eyes, which had 
procured him in the Highlands the nickname of 
Gillespie Grumach (or the grim), was less percept- 
ible when he looked downward, which perhaps was 
one cause of his having adopted that habit. In 
person, he was tall and thin, but not without that 
dignity of deportment and manners, which became 
his high rank. Something there was cold in his 
address, and sinister in his look, although he spoke 
and behaved with the usual grace of a man of such 
quality. He was adored by his own clan, whose 
advancement he had greatly studied, although he was 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


147 


in proportion disliked by the Highlanders of other 
septs, some of whom he had already stripped of 
their possessions, while others conceived themselves 
in danger from his future schemes, and all dreaded 
the height to which he was elevated. 

We have already noticed, that in displaying 
himself amidst his councillors, his officers of the 
household, and his train of vassals, allies, and de- 
pendents, the Marquis of Argyle probably wished 
to make an impression on the nervous system of 
Captain Dugald Dalgetty. But that doughty person 
had fought his way, in one department or another, 
through the greater part of the Thirty Years’ War 
in Germany, a period when a brave and successful 
soldier was a companion for princes. The King of 
Sweden, and, after his example, even the haughty 
Princes of the Empire, had found themselves fain 
frequently to compound with their dignity, and 
silence, when they could not satisfy, the pecuniary 
claims of their soldiers, by admitting them to un- 
usual privileges and familiarity. Captain Dugald 
Dalgetty had it to boast, that he had sate with 
princes at feasts made for monarchs, and therefore 
was not a person to be brow-beat even by the dig- 
nity which surrounded M'Callum More. Indeed, 
he was naturally by no means the most modest man 
in the world, but, on the contrary, had so good an 
opinion of himself, that into whatever company he 
chanced to be thrown, he was always proportionally 
elevated in his own conceit ; so that he felt as much 
at ease in the most exalted society as among his own 
ordinary companions. In this high opinion of his 
own rank, he was greatly fortified by his ideas of 
the military profession, which, in his phrase, made 
a valiant cavalier a camarado to an emperor. 


148 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


When introduced, therefore, into the Marquis’s 
presence-chamber, he advanced to the upper end 
with an air of more confidence than grace, and 
would have gone close up to Argyle’s person be- 
fore speaking, had not the latter waved his hand, 
as a signal to him to stop short. Captain Dalgetty 
did so accordingly, and having made his military 
congee with easy confidence, he thus accosted the 
Marquis : “ Give you good morrow, my lord — or 
rather I should say, good even ; Beso a usted los 
manos, as the Spaniard says.” 

“ Who are you, sir, and what is your business ? ” 
demanded the Marquis, in a tone which was in- 
tended to interrupt the offensive familiarity of the 
soldier. 

“ That is a fair interrogative, my lord,” answered 
Dalgetty, “ which I shall forthwith answer as be- 
comes a cavalier, and that peremptorie, as we used 
to say at Mareschal-College.” 

“ See who or what he is, Neal,” said the Mar- 
quis sternly, to a gentleman who stood near him. 

“ I will save the honourable gentleman the la- 
bour of investigation,” continued the Captain. “ I 
am Dugald Dalgetty, of Drumthwacket, that should 
be, late Ritt-master in various services, and now 
Major of I know not what or whose regiment of 
Irishes ; and I am come with a flag of truce from 
a high and powerful lord, James Earl of Montrose, 
and other noble persons now in arms for his Ma- 
jesty. And so, God save King Charles ! ” 

“Do you know where you are, and the danger 
of dallying with us, sir,” again demanded the Mar- 
quis, “ that you reply to me as if I were a child or 
a fool ? The Earl of Montrose is with the English 
malignants ; and I suspect you are one of those 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


149 


Irish runagates, who are come into this country 
to burn and slay, as they did under Sir Phelim 
0‘Neale.” 

“ My lord,” replied Captain Dalgetty, “ I am no 
renegade, though a Major of Irishes, for which I 
might refer your lordship to the invincible Gusta- 
vus Adolphus the Lion of the North, to Bannier, 
to Oxenstiern, to the warlike Duke of Saxe- Weimar, 
"filly, Wallenstein, Piccolomini, and other great 
captains, both dead and living ; and touching the 
noble Earl of Montrose, I pray your lordship to 
peruse these my full powers for treating with you 
in the name of ’ that right honourable commander.” 

The Marquis looked slightingly at the signed and 
sealed paper which Captain Dalgetty handed to 
him, and, throwing it with contempt upon a table, 
asked those around him what he deserved who came 
as the avowed envoy and agent of malignant trai- 
tors, in arms against the state ? 

“ A high gallows and a short shrift,” was the 
ready answer of one of the bystanders. 

“I will crave of that honourable cavalier who 
hath last spoken,” said Dalgetty, “ to be less hasty 
in forming his conclusions, and also of your lord- 
ship to be cautelous in adopting the same, in re- 
spect such threats are to be held out only to base 
bisognos, and not to men of spirit and action, who 
are bound to peril themselves as freely in services 
of this nature, as upon sieges, battles, or onslaughts 
of any sort. And albeit I have not with me a 
trumpet, or a white flag, in respect our army is not 
yet equipped with its full appointments, yet the 
honourable cavaliers and your lordship must con- 
cede unto me, that the sanctity of an envoy who 
cometh on matter of truce or parle, consisteth not 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


150 

in the fanfare of a trumpet, whilk is but a sound, 
or in the flap of a white flag, whilk is but an old 
rag in itself, but in the confidence reposed by the 
party sending, and the party sent, in the honour of 
those to whom the message is to be carried, and 
their full reliance that they will respect the jus gen- 
tium, as weel as the law of arms, in the person of 
the commissionate.” 

“You are not come hither to lecture us upon the 
law of arms, sir,” said the Marquis, “ which neither 
does nor can apply to rebels and insurgents ; but to 
suffer the penalty of your insolence and folly for 
bringing a traitorous message to the Lord Justice 
General of Scotland, whose duty calls upon him to 
punish such an offence with death ” 

“ Gentlemen,” said the Captain, who began much 
to dislike the turn which his mission seemed about 
to take, “I pray you to remember, that the Earl 
of Montrose will hold you and your possessions 
liable for whatever injury my person, or my horse, 
shall sustain by these unseemly proceedings, and 
that he will be justified in executing retributive 
vengeance on your persons and possessions.” 

This menace was received with a scornful laugh, 
while one of the Campbells replied, “ It is a far cry 
to Lochow;” a proverbial expression of the tribe, 
meaning that their ancient hereditary domains lay 
beyond the reach of an invading enemy. “ But, 
gentlemen,” further urged the unfortunate Captain, 
who was unwilling to be condemned, without at 
least the benefit of a full hearing, “ although it is 
not for me to say how far it may be to Lochow, in 
respect I am a stranger to these parts, yet, what is 
more to the purpose, I trust you will admit that I 
have the guarantee of an honourable gentleman of 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


151 

your own name, Sir Duncan Campbell of Arden- 
vohr, for my safety on this mission ; and I pray 
you to observe, that in breaking the truce towards 
me, you will highly prejudicate his honour and fair 
fame.” 

This seemed to be new information to many of 
the gentlemen, for they spoke aside with each other, 
and the Marquis’s face, notwithstanding his power 
of suppressing all external signs of his passions, 
showed impatience and vexation. 

“ Does Sir Duncan of Ardenvohr pledge his hon- 
our for this person’s safety, my lord?” said one of 
the company, addressing the Marquis. 

“ I do not believe it,” answered the Marquis ; 
“ but I have not yet had time to read his letter.” 

“We will pray your lordship to do so,” said 
another of the Campbells ; “ our name must not 
suffer discredit through the means of such a fellow 
as this.” 

“A dead fly,” said a clergyman, “maketh the 
ointment of the apothecary to stink.” 

“ Reverend sir,” said Captain Dalgetty, “ in re- 
spect of the use to be derived, I forgive you the 
unsavouriness of your comparison ; and also remit 
to the gentleman in the red bonnet, the disparaging 
epithet of fellow which he has discourteously ap- 
plied to me, who am no way to be distinguished 
by the same, unless in so far as I have been called 
fellow-soldier by the great Gustavus Adolphus, the 
Lion of the North, and other choice commanders, 
both in Germany and the Low Countries. But, 
touching Sir Duncan Campbell’s guarantee of my 
safety, I will gage my life upon his making my 
words good thereanent, when he comes hither 
to-morrow.” 


5 2 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“If Sir Duncan be soon expected, my lord,” said 
one of the intercessors, “ it would be a pity to anti- 
cipate matters with this poor man.” 

“ Besides that,” said another, “ your lordship — 
I speak with reverence — should, at least, consult 
the Knight of Ardenvohr’s letter, and learn the 
terms on which this Major Dalgetty, as he calls 
himself, has been sent hither by him.” 

They closed around the Marquis, and conversed 
together in a low tone, both in Gaelic and English. 
The patriarchal power of the Chiefs was very great, 
and that of the Marquis of Argyle, armed with all 
his grants of hereditary jurisdiction, was particu- 
larly absolute. But there interferes some check of 
one kind or other even in the most despotic gov- 
ernment. That which mitigated the power of the 
Celtic Chiefs, was the necessity which they lay 
under of conciliating the kinsmen, who, under them, 
led out the lower orders to battle, and who formed 
a sort of council of the tribe in time of peace. The 
Marquis on this occasion thought himself under the 
necessity of attending to the remonstrances of this 
senate, or more properly Couroultai , of the name 
of Campbell, and, slipping out of the circle, gave 
orders for the prisoner to be removed to a place of 
security. 

“ Prisoner ! ” exclaimed Dalgetty, exerting him- 
self with such force as wellnigh to shake off two 
Highlanders, who for some minutes past had waited 
the signal to seize him, and kept for that purpose 
close at his back. Indeed the soldier had so nearly 
attained his liberty, that the Marquis of Argyle 
changed colour, and stepped back two paces, laying, 
however, his hand on his sword, while several of 
his clan, with ready devotion, threw themselves 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


153 


betwixt him and the apprehended vengeance of the 
prisoner. But the Highland guards were too strong 
to he shaken off, and the unlucky Captain, after 
having had his offensive weapons taken from him, 
was dragged off and conducted through several 
gloomy passages to a small side-door grated with 
iron, within which was another of wood. These 
were opened by a grim old Highlander with a long 
white beard, and displayed a very steep and nar- 
row flight of steps leading downward. The Cap- 
tain’s guards pushed him down two or three steps, 
then, unloosing his arms, left him to grope his way 
to the bottom as he could ; a task which became 
difficult and even dangerous, when the two doors 
being successively locked left the prisoner in total 
darkness. 


CHAPTEK XIII. 


Whatever stranger visits here, 

We pity his sad case, 

Unless to worship he draw near 
The King of Kings — his Grace. 

Burns’s Epigram on a Visit to Inverary . 


The Captain, finding himself deprived of light in 
the manner we have described, and placed in a 
very uncertain situation, proceeded to descend the 
narrow and broken stair with all the caution in his 
power, hoping that he might find at the bottom 
some place to repose himself. But with all his 
care he could not finally avoid making a false step, 
which brought him down the four or five last steps 
too hastily to preserve his equilibrium. At the 
bottom he stumbled over a bundle of something 
soft, which stirred and uttered a groan, so derang- 
ing the Captain’s descent, that he floundered for- 
ward, and finally fell upon his hands and knees on 
the floor of a damp and stone-paved dungeon. 

When Dalgetty had recovered, his first demand 
was to know over whom he had stumbled. 

“ He was a man a month since,” answered a hol- 
low and broken voice. 

“And what is he now, then,” said Dalgetty, 
“that he thinks it fitting to lie upon the lowest 
step of the stairs, and clew’d up like a hurchin, that 
honourable cavaliers, who chance to be in trouble, 
may break their noses over him ? ” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 


155 


“What is he now?” replied the same voice ; “he 
is a wretched trunk, from which the boughs have 
one by one been lopped away, and which cares 
little how soon it is torn up and hewed into billets 
for the furnace.” 

“Friend,” said Dalgetty, “I am sorry for you; 
but patienza , as the Spaniard says. If you had 
but been as quiet as a log, as you call yourself, I 
should have saved some excoriations on my hands 
and knees.” 

“ You are a soldier,” replied his fellow-prisoner ; 
“ do you complain on account of a fall for which a 
boy would not bemoan himself ? ” 

“ A soldier ? ” said the Captain ; “ and how do 
you know, in this cursed dark cavern, that I am a 
soldier ? ” 

“ I heard your armour clash as you fell,” replied 
the prisoner, “and now I see it glimmer. When 
you have remained as long as I in this darkness, 
your eyes will distinguish the smallest eft that 
crawls on the floor.” 

“ I had rather the devil picked them out 1 ” said 
Dalgetty ; “ if this be the case, I shall wish for a 
short turn of the rope, a soldier’s prayer, and a leap 
from a ladder. But what sort of provant have you 
got here — what food, I mean, brother in affliction ? ” 

“ Bread and water once a-day,” replied the voice. 

“Pri’thee, friend, let me taste your loaf,” said 
Dalgetty; “I hope we shall play good comrades 
while we dwell together in this abominable pit.” 

“ The loaf and jar of water,” answered the other 
prisoner, “stand in the corner, two steps to your 
right hand. Take them, and welcome. With 
earthly food I have wellnigh done.” 

Dalgetty did not wait for a second invitation, 


1 56 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


but, groping out the provisions, began to munch 
at the stale black oaten loaf with as much hearti- 
ness as we have seen him play his part at better 
viands. 

“ This bread,” he said, muttering, (with his mouth 
full at the same time,) “is not very savoury; never- 
theless, it is not much worse than that which we 
ate at the famous leaguer at Werben, where the 
valorous Gustavus foiled all the efforts of the cele- 
brated Tilly, that terrible old hero, who had driven 
two kings out of the field — namely, Ferdinand of 
Bohemia and Christian of Denmark. And anent 
this water, which is none of the most sweet, I 
drink in the same to your speedy deliverance, com- 
rade, not forgetting mine own, and devoutly wish- 
ing it were Rhenish wine, or humming Lubeck beer, 
at the least, were it but in honour of the pledge.” 

While Dalgetty ran on in this way, his teeth 
kept time with his tongue, and he speedily finished 
the provisions which the benevolence or indiffer- 
ence of his companion in misfortune had abandoned 
to his voracity. When this task was accomplished, 
he wrapped himself in his cloak, and seating him- 
self in a corner of the dungeon in which he could 
obtain a support on each side, (for he had always 
been an admirer of elbow-chairs, he remarked, even 
from his youth upward,) he began to question his 
fellow-captive. 

“ Mine honest friend,” said he, “ you and I, being 
comrades at bed and board, should be better ac- 
quainted. I am Dugald Dalgetty of Drumthwacket, 
and so forth, Major in a regiment of loyal Irishes, 
and Envoy Extraordinary of a High and Mighty 
Lord, James Earl of Montrose. — Pray, what may 
your name be ? ” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


157 


“It will avail you little to know,” replied his 
more taciturn companion. 

“Let me judge of that matter,” answered the 
soldier. 

“Well, then — Ranald MacEagh is my name — 
that is, Ranald Son of the Mist.” 

“ Son of the Mist ! ” ejaculated Dalgetty. “ Son 
of utter darkness, say I. But, Ranald, since that 
is your name, how came you in possession of the 
provost’s court of guard? what the devil brought 
you here, that is to say ? ” 

“ My misfortunes and my crimes,” answered 
Ranald. “ Know ye the Knight of Ardenvohr ? ” 

“I do know that honourable person,” replied 
Dalgetty. 

“ But know ye where he now is ? ” replied Ranald. 

“Easting this day at Ardenvohr,” answered the 
Envoy, “ that he may feast to-morrow at Inverary ; 
in which last purpose if he chance to fail, my lease 
of human service will be something precarious.” 

“ Then let him know, one claims his intercession, 
who is his worst foe and his best friend,” answered 
Ranald. 

“ Truly I shall desire to carry a less questionable 
message,” answered Dalgetty. “ Sir Duncan is not 
a person to play at reading riddles with.” 

“ Craven Saxon,” said the prisoner, “ tell him I am 
the raven that, fifteen years since, stooped on his 
tower of strength and the pledges he had left there 
— I am the hunter that found out the wolfs den 
on the j*ock, and destroyed his offspring — I am the 
leader of the band which surprised Ardenvohr yes- 
terday was fifteen years, and gave his four children 
to the sword.” 

“ Truly, my honest friend,” said Dalgetty, “ if that 


i 5 8 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


is your best recommendation to Sir Duncan’s favour, 
I would pretermit my pleading thereupon, in respect 
I have observed that even the animal creation are 
incensed against those who intromit with their off- 
spring forcibly, much more any rational and Chris- 
tian creatures, who have had violence done upon 
their small family. But I pray you in courtesy to 
tell me, whether you assailed the castle from the 
hillock called Drumsnab, whilk I uphold to be the 
true point of attack, unless it were to be protected 
by a sconce.” 

“We ascended the cliff by ladders of withies or 
saplings,” said the prisoner, “ drawn up by an ac- 
complice and clansman, who had served six months 
in the castle to enjoy that one night of unlimited 
vengeance. The owl whooped around us as we 
hung betwixt heaven and earth ; the tide roared 
against the foot of the rock, and dashed asunder our 
skiff, yet no man’s heart failed him. In the morn- 
ing there was blood and ashes, where there had 
been peace and joy at the sunset.” 

“ It was a pretty camisade, I doubt not, Ranald 
MacEagh, a very sufficient onslaught, and not un- 
worthily discharged. Nevertheless, I would have 
pressed the house from that little hillock called 
Drumsnab. But yours is a pretty irregular Scythian 
fashion of warfare, Ranald, much resembling that 
of Turks, Tartars, and other Asiatic people. — But 
the reason, my friend, the cause of this war — the 
teterrima causa , as I may say ? Deliver me that, 
Ranald.” 

“We had been pushed at by the M‘Aulays, and 
other western tribes,” said Ranald, “ till our posses- 
sions became unsafe for us.” 

“ Ah ha ! ” said Dalgetty ; “ I have faint remem- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


159 


brance of having heard of that matter. Did you 
not put bread and cheese into a man’s mouth, when 
he had never a stomach whereunto to transmit the 
same ? ” 

“ You have heard, then,” said Ranald, “ the tale of 
our revenge on the haughty forester ? ” 

“ I bethink me that I have,” said Dalgetty, “ and 
that not of an old date. It was a merry jest that, 
of cramming the bread into the dead man’s mouth, 
but somewhat too wild and salvage for civilized ac- 
ceptation, besides wasting the good victuals. I have 
seen when at a siege or a leaguer, Ranald, a living 
soldier would have been the better, Ranald, for that 
crust of bread, whilk you threw away on a dead pow.” 

“We were attacked by Sir Duncan,” continued 
MacEagh, “and my brother was slain — his head 
was withering on the battlements which we scaled 
— I vowed revenge, and it is a vow I have never 
broken.” 

“ It may he so,” said Dalgetty ; “ and every tho- 
rough-bred soldier will confess that revenge is a 
sweet morsel ; but in what manner this story will 
interest Sir Duncan in your justification, unless it 
should move him to intercede with the Marquis to 
change the manner thereof from hanging, or simple 
suspension, to breaking your limbs on the roue or 
wheel, with the coulter of a plough, or otherwise 
putting you to death by torture, surpasses my com- 
prehension. Were I you, Ranald, I would be for 
miskenning Sir Duncan, keeping my own secret, and 
departing quietly by suffocation, like your ancestors 
before you.” 

“ Yet hearken, stranger,” said the Highlander. 
“ Sir Duncan of Ardenvohr had four children. 
Three died under our dirks, but the fourth survives ; 


160 TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

and more would he give to dandle on his knee the 
fourth child which remains, than to rack these old 
bones, which care little for the utmost indulgence 
of his wrath. One word, if I list to speak it, could 
turn his day of humiliation and fasting into a day 
of thankfulness and rejoicing, and breaking of bread. 
0, I know it by my own heart ! Dearer to me is 
the child Kenneth, who chaseth the butterfly on the 
banks of the Aven, than ten sons who are moulder- 
ing in earth, or are preyed on by the fowls of 
the air.” 

“I presume, Ranald,” continued Dalgetty, “that 
the three pretty fellows whom I saw yonder in the 
market-place, strung up by the head like rizzer’d 
haddocks, claimed some interest in you ? ” 

There was a brief pause ere the Highlander re- 
plied, in a tone of strong emotion, — “ They were my 
sons, stranger — they were my sons ! — blood of my 
blood — bone of my bone ! — fleet of foot — unerr- 
ing in aim — un vanquished by foemen till the sons 
of Diarmid overcame them by numbers ! Why do I 
wish to survive them ? The old trunk will less feel 
the rending up of its roots, than it has felt the lop- 
ping off of its graceful boughs. But Kenneth must 
be trained to revenge — the young eagle must learn 
from the old how to stoop on his foes. I will pur- 
chase for his sake my life and my freedom, by dis- 
covering my secret to the Knight of Ardenvohr.” 

“ You may attain your end more easily,” said a 
third voice, mingling in the conference, “ by entrust- 
ing it to me.” 

All Highlanders are superstitious. “ The Enemy 
of Mankind is among us ! ” said Ranald MacEagh, 
springing to his feet. His chains clattered as he 
rose, while he drew himself as far as they permitted 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


161 


from the quarter whence the voice appeared to pro- 
ceed. His fear in some degree communicated itself 
to Captain Dalgetty, who began to repeat, in a sort 
of polyglot gibberish, all the exorcisms he had ever 
heard of, without being able to remember more than 
a word or two of each. 

“ In nomine domini, as we said at the Mareschal 
College — santissima madre di dios , as the Spaniard 
has it — alle guten geister loben den Herrn , saith the 
blessed Psalmist, in Dr. Luther’s translation ” 

“ A truce with your exorcisms,” said the voice they 
had heard before ; “ though I come strangely among 
you, I am mortal like yourselves, and my assistance 
may avail you in your present streight, if you are 
not too proud to be counselled.” 

While the stranger thus spoke, he withdrew the 
shade of a dark lantern, by whose feeble light Dal- 
getty could only discern that the speaker who had 
thus mysteriously united himself to their company, 
and mixed in their conversation, was a tall man, 
dressed in a livery cloak of the Marquis. His first 
glance was to his feet, but he saw neither the clo- 
ven foot which Scottish legends assign to the foul 
fiend, nor the horse’s hoof by which he is distin- 
guished in Germany. His first enquiry was, how 
the stranger had come among them? 

“ For,” said he, “ the creak of these rusty 
bars would have been heard had the door been 
made patent; and if you passed through the 
keyhole, truly, sir, put what face you will on it, 
you are not fit to be enrolled in a regiment of living 
men.” 

“I reserve my secret,” answered the stranger, 
“until you shall merit the discovery by commu- 
nicating to me some of yours. It may be that 
11 


t6z 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


I shall be moved to let you out where I myself 
came in.” 

“It cannot be through the keyhole, then,” said 
Captain Dalgetty, “for my corslet would stick in 
the passage, were it possible that my head-piece 
could get through. As for secrets, I have none of 
my own, and but few appertaining to others. But 
impart to us what secrets you desire to know; 
or, as Professor Snuffiegreek used to say at the 
Mareschal-College, Aberdeen, speak that I may 
know thee.” 

“It is not with you I have first to do,” re- 
plied the stranger, turning his light full on the 
wild and wasted features, and the large limbs of 
the Highlander, Ranald MacEagh, who, close 
drawn up against the walls of the dungeon, seemed 
yet uncertain whether his guest was a living 
being. 

“ I have brought you something, my friend,” said 
the stranger, in a more soothing tone, “ to mend 
your fare; if you are to die to-morrow, it is no 
reason wherefore you should not live to-night.” 

“None at all — no reason in the creation/’ re- 
plied the ready Captain Dalgetty, who forthwith 
began to unpack the contents of a small basket 
which the stranger had brought under his cloak, 
while the Highlander, either in suspicion or disdain, 
paid no attention to the good cheer. 

“ Here’s to thee, my friend,” said the Captain, 
who, having already dispatched a huge piece of 
roasted kid, was now taking a pull at the wine- 
flask. “ What is thy name, my good friend ? ” 

“ Murdoch Campbell, sir,” answered the servant, 
“ a lackey of the Marquis of Argyle, and occasion- 
ally acting as under- warden.” 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


163 


“Then here is to thee once more, Murdoch/’ 
said Dalgetty, “drinking to you by your proper 
name for the better luck sake. This wine I take 
to be Calcavella. Well, honest Murdoch, I take it 
on me to say, thou deservest to be upper-warden, 
since thou showest thyself twenty times better ac- 
quainted with the way of victualling honest gentle- 
men that are under misfortune, than thy principal. 
Bread and water ? out upon him ! It was enough, 
Murdoch, to destroy the credit of the Marquis’s 
dungeon. But I see you would converse with my 
friend, Ranald MacEagh here. Never mind my 
presence ; I’ll get me into this corner with the 
basket, and I will warrant my jaws make noise 
enough to prevent my ears from hearing you.” 

Notwithstanding this promise, however, the vet- 
eran listened with all the attention he could to 
gather their discourse, or, as he described it him- 
self, “ laid his ears back in his neck, like Gustavus, 
when he heard the key turn in the girnell- 
kist.” He could, therefore, owing to the narrow- 
ness of the dungeon, easily overhear the following 
dialogue. 

“ Are you aware, Son of the Mist,” said the 
Campbell, “ that you will never leave this place 
excepting for the gibbet ? ” 

“ Those who are dearest to me,” answered Mac- 
Eagh, “ have trode that path before me.” 

“ Then you would do nothing,” asked the visitor, 
“ to shun following them ? ” 

The prisoner writhed himself in his chains be- 
fore returning an answer. 

“ I would do much,” at length he said ; “ not for 
my own life, but for the sake of the pledge in the 
glen of Strath- Aven.” 


164 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“ And what would you do to turn away the 
bitterness of the hour ? ” again demanded Mur- 
doch ; “ I care not for what cause ye mean to 
shun it.” 

“ I would do what a man might do, and still call 
himself a man.” 

“ Do you call yourself a man,” said the interro- 
gator, “ who have done the deeds of a wolf ? ” 

“ I do,” answered the outlaw ; “ I am a man like 
my forefathers — while wrapt in the mantle of 
peace, we were lambs — it was rent from us, and ye 
now call us wolves. Give us the huts ye have 
burned, our children whom ye have murdered, our 
widows whom ye have starved — collect from the 
gibbet and the pole the mangled carcasses, and whit- 
ened skulls of our kinsmen — bid them live and 
bless us, and we will be your vassals and brothers 
— till then, let death, and blood, and mutual wrong, 
draw a dark veil of division between us.” 

“ You will then do nothing for your liberty,” 
said the Campbell. 

“ Any thing — but call myself the friend of your 
tribe,” answered MacEagh. 

“ We scorn the friendship of banditti and cat- 
erans,” retorted Murdoch, “ and would not stoop 
to accept it. — What I demand to know from you, 
in exchange for your liberty, is, where the daughter 
and heiress of the Knight of Ardenvohr is now to 
be found ? ” 

“ That you may wed her to some beggarly kins- 
man of your great master,” said Ranald, “ after the 
fashion of the Children of Diarmid ! Does not the 
valley of Glenorquhy, to this very hour, cry shame 
on the violence offered to a helpless infant whom 
her kinsmen were conveying to the court of the 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


165 


Sovereign ? Were not her escort compelled to hide 
her beneath a cauldron, round which they fought 
till not one remained to tell the tale ? and was not 
the girl brought to this fatal castle, and afterwards 
wedded to the brother of M‘Callum More, and all 
for the sake of her broad lands ? ” 1 

“And if the tale be true,” said Murdoch, “she 
had a preferment beyond what the King of Scots 
would have conferred on her. But this is far from 
the purpose. The daughter of Sir Duncan of Ar- 
denvohr is of our own blood, not a stranger; and 
who has so good a right to know her fate as M'Cal- 
lum More, the chief of her clan ? ” 

“ It is on his part, then, that you demand it ? ” 
said the outlaw. The domestic of the Marquis 
assented. 

“And you will practise no evil against the 
maiden ? — I have done her wrong enough already.” 

“No evil, upon the word of a Christian man,” 
replied Murdoch. 

“And my guerdon is to be life and liberty?” 
said the Child of the Mist. 

“ Such is our paction,” replied the Campbell. 

“ Then know, that the child whom I saved out 
of compassion at the spoiling of her father’s tower 
of strength, was bred as an adopted daughter of 
our tribe, until we were worsted at the pass of Bal- 
lenduthil, by the fiend incarnate and mortal enemy 
of our tribe, Allan M‘Aulay of the Bloody hand, 
and by the horsemen of Lennox, under the heir of 
Menteith .” 

1 Such a story is told of the heiress of the clan of Calder, who 
was made prisoner in the manner described, and afterwards 
wedded to Sir Duncan Campbell, from which union the Campbells 
of Cawdor have their descent. 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


1 66 

“ Fell she into the power of Allan of the Bloody 
hand,” said Murdoch, “ and she a reputed daughter 
of thy tribe ? Then her blood has gilded the dirk, 
and thou hast said nothing to rescue thine own 
forfeited life.” 

“ If my life rest on hers,” answered the outlaw, 
“it is secure, for she still survives; but it has a 
more insecure reliance — the frail promise of a son 
of Diarmid.” 

“That promise shall not fail you,” said the 
Campbell, “ if you can assure me that she survives, 
and where she is to be found.” 

“ In the Castle of Darnlinvarach,” said Ranald 
MacEagh, “ under the name of Annot Lyle. I have 
often heard of her from my kinsmen, who have 
again approached their native woods, and it is not 
long since mine old eyes beheld her.” 

“You!” said Murdoch, in astonishment, “you, 
a chief among the Children of the Mist, and ven- 
tured so near your mortal foe?” 

“Son of Diarmid, I did more,” replied the out- 
law ; “ I was in the hall of the castle, disguised as 
a harper from the wild shores of Skianach. My 
purpose was to have plunged my dirk in the body 
of the M'Aulay with the Bloody hand, before whom 
our race trembles, and to have taken thereafter 
what fate God should send me. But I saw Annot 
Lyle, even when my hand was on the hilt of my 
dagger. She touched her clairshach 1 to a song of 
the Children of the Mist, which she had learned 
when her dwelling was amongst us. The woods in 
which we had dwelt pleasantly, rustled their green 
leaves in the song, and our streams were there with 
the sound of all their waters. My hand forsook the 
1 Harp. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


167 

dagger; the fountains of mine eyes were opened, 
and the hour of revenge passed away. — And now, 
Son of Diarmid, have I not paid the ransom of my 
head ? ” 

“ Ay,” replied Murdoch, “ if your tale be true ; 
but what proof can you assign for it ? ” 

“Bear witness, heaven and earth," exclaimed the 
outlaw, “he already looks how he may step over 
his word ! ” 

“Not so,” replied Murdoch; “every promise 
shall be kept to you when I am assured you have 
told me the truth. — But I must speak a few words 
with your companion in captivity.” 

“Fair and false — ever fair and false,” muttered 
the prisoner, as he threw himself once more on the 
floor of his dungeon. 

Meanwhile, Captain Dalgetty, who had attended 
to every word of this dialogue, was making his own 
remarks on it in private. “What the henker can 
this sly fellow have to say to me? I have no 
child, either of my own, so far as I know, or of any 
other person, to tell him a tale about. But let him 
come on — he will have some manoeuvring ere he 
turn the flank of the old soldier." 

Accordingly, as if he had stood pike in hand to 
defend a breach, he waited with caution, but with- 
out fear, the commencement of the attack. 

“You are a citizen of the world, Captain Dal- 
getty,” said Murdoch Campbell, “and cannot be 
ignorant of our old Scotch proverb, gif-gaf} which 
goes through all nations and all services.” 

“ Then I should know something of it,” said Dal- 
getty ; “ for, except the Turks, there are few powers 

1 In old English, ka me ka thee, i. e. mutually serving each 
other. 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


1 68 

in Europe whom I have not served ; and I have 
sometimes thought of taking a turn either with 
Bethlem Gabor, ( h ) or with the Janizaries.” 

“A man of your experience and unprejudiced 
ideas, then, will understand me at once,” said Mur- 
doch, “ when I say, I mean that your freedom shall 
depend on your true and upright answer to a few 
trifling questions respecting the gentlemen you 
have left ; their state of preparation ; the number 
of their men, and nature of their appointments; 
and as much as you chance to know about their 
plan of operations.” 

“Just to satisfy your curiosity,” said Dalgetty, 
“ and without any farther purpose ? ” 

“None in the world,” replied Murdoch; “what 
interest should a poor devil like me take in their 
operations ? ” 

“ Make your interrogations, then,” said the Cap- 
tain, “ and I will answer them jperemjptorie .” 

“ How many Irish may he on their march to join 
James Grahame the delinquent?” 

“ Probably ten thousand,” said Captain Dalgetty. 

“ Ten thousand ! ” replied Murdoch angrily ; 
“we know that scarce two thousand landed at 
Ardnamurchan.” 

“ Then you know more about them than I do,” 
answered Captain Dalgetty, with great composure. 
“I never saw them mustered yet, or even under 
arms.” 

“ And how many men of the clans may be ex- 
pected ? ” demanded Murdoch. 

“ As many as they can make,” replied the Captain. 

“ You are answering from the purpose, sir,” said 
Murdoch ; “ speak plainly, will there be five thou- 
sand men ? ” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


169 


“ There and thereabouts,” answered Dalgetty. 

“ You are playing with your life, sir, if you trifle 
with me,” replied the catechist ; “ one whistle of 
mine, and in less than ten minutes your head hangs 
on the drawbridge.” 

“But to speak candidly, Mr. Murdoch,” replied 
the Captain, “ do you think it is a reasonable thing 
to ask me after the secrets of our army, and I en- 
gaged to serve for the whole campaign ? If I taught 
you how to defeat Montrose, what becomes of my 
pay, arrears, and chance of booty ? ” 

“I tell you,” said Campbell, “that if you be 
stubborn, your campaign shall begin and end in a 
march to the block at the castle-gate, which stands 
ready for such land-laufers ; but if you answer my 
questions faithfully, I will receive you into my — 
into the service of M‘Callum More.” 

“Does the service afford good pay?” said Cap- 
tain Dalgetty. 

“ He will double yours, if you will return to 
Montrose and act under his direction.” 

“ I wish I had seen you, sir, before taking on 
with him,” said Dalgetty, appearing to meditate. 

“ On the contrary, I can afford you more advan- 
tageous terms now,” said the Campbell ; “ always 
supposing that you are faithful.” 

“ Faithful, that is, to you, and a traitor to Mon- 
trose,” answered the Captain. 

“ Faithful to the cause of religion and good or- 
der,” answered Murdoch, “ which sanctifies any 
deception you may employ to serve it.” 

“ And the Marquis of Argyle — should I incline 
to enter his service, is he a kind master?” de- 
manded Dalgetty. 

“ Never man kinder,” quoth Campbell. 


i7o 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


“ And bountiful to his officers ? ” pursued the 
Captain. 

“ The most open hand in Scotland,” replied 
Murdoch. 

“ True and faithful to his engagements ? ” con- 
tinued Dalgetty. 

“ As honourable a nobleman as breathes,” said 
the clansman. 

“I never heard so much good of him before,” 
said Dalgetty ; “ you must know the Marquis well, 
— or rather you must be the Marquis himself ! - — 
Lord of Argyle,” he added, throwing himself sud- 
denly on the disguised nobleman, “ I arrest you in 
the name of King Charles, as a traitor. If you 
venture to call for assistance, I will wrench round 
your neck.” 

The attack which Dalgetty made upon Argyle’ s 
person was so sudden and unexpected, that he 
easily prostrated him on the floor of the dungeon, 
and held him down with one hand, while his 
right, grasping the Marquis’s throat, was ready to 
strangle him on the slightest attempt to call for 
assistance. 

“Lord of Argyle,” he said, “it is now my turn 
to lay down the terms of capitulation. If you list 
to show me the private way by which you entered 
the dungeon, you shall escape, on condition of be- 
ing my locum tenens, as we said at the Mareschal- 
College, until your warder visits his prisoners. 
But if not, I will first strangle you — I learned the 
art from a Polonian heyduck, who had been a slave 
in the Ottoman seraglio — and then seek out a mode 
of retreat.” 

“ Villain ! you would not murder me for my 
kindness,” murmured Argyle. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


171 

“ Not for your kindness, my lord,” replied Dal- 
getty: “but first, to teach your lordship the jus 
gentium towards cavaliers who come to you under 
safe-conduct ; and secondly, to warn you of the 
danger of proposing dishonourable terms to any 
worthy soldado, in order to tempt him to become 
false to his standard during the term of his 
service.” 

“ Spare my life,” said Argyle, “ and I will do as 
you require.” 

Dalgetty maintained his gripe upon the Mar- 
quis’s throat, compressing it a little, while he asked 
questions, and relaxing it so far as to give him the 
power of answering them. 

“ Where is the secret door into the dungeon ? ” 
he demanded. 

“ Hold up the lantern to the corner on your right 
hand, you will discern the iron which covers the 
spring,” replied the Marquis. 

“ So far so good. — Where does the passage lead 
to ?” 

“ To my private apartment behind the tapestry,” 
answered the prostrate nobleman. 

“ From thence how shall I reach the gateway ? ” 

“Through the grand gallery, the anteroom, the 
lackey’s waiting hall, the grand guardroom ” 

“All crowded with soldiers, factionaries, and 
attendants ? — that will never do for me, my lord ; 
— have you no secret passage to the gate, as you 
have to your dungeons ? I have seen such in 
Germany.” 

“ There is a passage through the chapel,” said the 
Marquis, “ opening from my apartment.” 

“ And what is the pass-word at the gate ? ” 

“The sword of Levi,” replied the Marquis; 


172 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“but if you will receive my pledge of honour, I 
will go with you, escort you through every guard, 
and set you at full liberty with a passport .” 

“ I might trust you, my lord, were your throat 
not already black with the grasp of my fingers ; — 
as it is, beso los manos a usted , as the Spaniard says. 
Yet you may grant me a passport ; — are there wri- 
ting materials in your apartment ? ” 

“ Surely ; and blank passports ready to be signed. I 
will attend you there,” said the Marquis, “ instantly.” 

“ It were too much honour for the like of me,” 
said Dalgetty ; “ your lordship shall remain under 
charge of mine honest friend Ranald MacEagh; 
therefore, prithee let me drag you within reach of 
his chain. — Honest Ranald, you see how matters 
stand with us. I shall find the means, I doubt not, 
of setting you at freedom. Meantime, do as you 
see me do ; clap your hand thus on the weasand of 
this high and mighty prince, under his ruff, and 
if he offer to struggle or cry out, fail not, my wor- 
thy Ranald, to squeeze doughtily ; and if it be ad 
deliquium, Ranald, that is, till he swoon, there is 
no great matter, seeing he designed your gullet 
and mine to still harder usage.” 

“ If he offer at speech or struggle,” said Ranald, 
“ he dies by my hand.” 

“ That is right, Ranald — very spirited : — A thor- 
ough-going friend that understands a hint is worth 
a million ! ” 

Thus resigning the charge of the Marquis to his 
new confederate, Dalgetty pressed the spring, by 
which the secret door flew open, though so well 
were its hinges polished and oiled, that it made not 
the slightest noise in revolving. The opposite side 
of the door was secured by very strong bolts and 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


173 


bars, beside which hung one or two keys, designed 
apparently to undo fetterlocks. A narrow stair- 
case, ascending up through the thickness of the 
castle-wall, landed, as the Marquis had truly in- 
formed him, behind the tapestry of his private 
apartment. Such communications were frequent 
in old feudal castles, as they gave the lord of the 
fortress, like a second Dionysius, the means of hear- 
ing the conversation of his prisoners, or, if he 
pleased, of visiting them in disguise, an experiment 
which had terminated so unpleasantly on the pre- 
sent occasion for Gillespie Grumach. Having ex- 
amined previously whether there was any one in 
the apartment, and finding the coast clear, the Cap- 
tain entered, and hastily possessing himself of a 
blank passport, several of which lay on the table, 
and of writing materials, securing, at the same time, 
the Marquis’s dagger, and a silk cord from the 
hangings, he again descended into the cavern, where, * 
listening a moment at the door, he could hear the 
half-stifled voice of the Marquis making great prof- 
fers to MacEagh, on condition he would suffer him 
to give an alarm. 

“ Not for a forest of deer — not for a thousand 
head of cattle,” answered the freebooter ; “ not for 
all the lands that ever called a son of Diarmid mas- 
ter, will I break the troth I have plighted to him 
of the iron-garment ! ” 

“He of the iron-garment,” said Dalgetty, enter- 
ing, “is bounden unto you, MacEagh, and this 
noble lord shall be bounden also ; but first he must 
fill up this passport with the names of Major Du- 
gald Dalgetty and his guide, or he is like to have 
a passport to another world.” 

The Marquis subscribed, and wrote, by the light 


174 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


of the dark lantern, as the soldier prescribed to 
him. 

“And now, Ranald,” said Dalgetty, “strip thy 
upper garment — thy plaid I mean, Ranald, and in 
it will I muffle the M‘Callum More, and make of 
him, for the time, a Child of the Mist ; — Nay, I 
must bring it over your head, my lord, so as to 
secure us against your mistimed clamour. — So, now 
he is sufficiently muffled ; — hold down your hands, 
or, by Heaven, I will stab you to the heart with your 
own dagger! — Nay, you shall be bound with noth- 
ing less than silk, as your quality deserves. — So, 
now he is secure till some one comes to relieve him. 
If he ordered us a late dinner, Ranald, he is like to 
be the sufferer ; — at what hour, my good Ranald, 
did the jailor usually appear ? ” 

“Never till the sun was beneath the western 
wave,” said MacEagh. 

“ Then, my friend, we shall have three hours 
good,” said the cautious Captain. “In the mean- 
time, let us labour for your liberation.” 

To examine Ranald’s chain was the next occu- 
pation. It was undone by means of one of the keys 
which hung behind the private door, probably de- 
posited there, that the Marquis might, if he pleased, 
dismiss a prisoner, or remove him elsewhere with- 
out the necessity of summoning the warden. The 
outlaw stretched his benumbed arms, and bounded 
from the floor of the dungeon in all the ecstasy of 
recovered freedom. 

“Take the livery-coat of that noble prisoner,” 
said Captain Dalgetty ; “ put it on, and follow close 
at my heels.” 

The outlaw obeyed. They ascended the pri- 
vate stair, having first secured the door behind 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


175 


them, and thus safely reached the apartment of the 
Marquis . 1 

1 The precarious state of the feudal nobles introduced a great 
deal of espionage into their castles. Sir Robert Carey men- 
tions his having put on the cloak of one of his own wardens to 
obtain a confession from the mouth of Geordie Bourne, his pris- 
oner, whom he caused presently to be hanged in return for the 
frankness of his communication. The fine old Border castle 
of Naworth contains a private stair from the apartment of the 
Lord William Howard, by which he could visit the dungeon, 
as is alleged in the preceding chapter to have been practised 
by the Marquis of Argyle. 


CHAPTEE XIV. 


This was the entry then, these stairs — but whither after ? 

Yet he that’s sure to perish on the land 
May quit the nicety of card and compass, 

And trust the open sea without a pilot. 

Tragedy of Brennovalt. 

“ Look out for the private way through the chapel, 
Eanald,” said the Captain, “while I give a hasty 
regard to these matters.” 

Thus speaking, he seized with one hand a bundle 
of Argyle’s most private papers, and with the other 
a purse of gold, both of which lay in a drawer of a 
rich cabinet, which stood invitingly open. Neither 
did he neglect to possess himself of a sword and 
pistols, with powder-flask and balls, which hung in 
the apartment. “ Intelligence and booty,” said the 
veteran, as he pouched the spoils, “ each honourable 
cavalier should look to, the one on his general’s 
behalf, and the other on his own. This sword is 
an Andrew Ferrara, and the pistols better than 
mine own. But a fair exchange is no robbery. Sol- 
dados are not to be endangered, and endangered 
gratuitously, my Lord of Argyle. — But soft, soft, 
Eanald; wise Man of the Mist, whither art thou 
bound ? ” 

It was indeed full time to stop MacEagh’s pro- 
ceedings ; for, not finding the private passage read- 
ily, and impatient, it would seem, of farther delay, 
he had caught down a sword and target, and was 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


1 77 


about to enter the great gallery, with the purpose, 
doubtless, of fighting his way through all opposition. 

“ Hold, while you live,” whispered Dalgetty, lay- 
ing hold on him. “We must lie perdue, if possible. 
So bar we this door, that it may be thought M‘Cal- 
lum More would be private — and now let me make 
a reconnoissance for the private passage.” 

By looking behind the tapestry in various places, 
the Captain at length discovered a private door, 
and behind that a winding passage, terminated by 
another door, which doubtless entered the chapel. 
But what was his disagreeable surprise to hear, on 
the other side of this second door, the sonorous 
voice of a divine in the act of preaching. 

“ This made the villain,” he said, “ recommend 
this to us as a private passage. I am strongly 
tempted to return and cut his throat.” 

He then opened very gently the door, which led 
into a latticed gallery used by the Marquis himself, 
the curtains of which were drawn, perhaps with the 
purpose of having it supposed that he was engaged 
in attendance upon divine worship, when, in fact, 
he was absent upon his secular affairs. There was 
no other person in the seat ; for the family of the 
Marquis, — such was the high state maintained in 
those days, — sate during service in another gal- 
lery, placed somewhat lower than that of the great 
man himself. This being the case, Captain Dal- 
getty ventured to ensconce himself in the gallery, 
of which he carefully secured the door. 

Never (although the expression be a bold one) 
was a sermon listened to with more impatience, 
and less edification, on the part of one, at least, of 
the audience. The Captain heard sixteenthly — 
seventeenthly — eighteenthly , and to conclude , with a 
12 


78 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


sort of feeling like protracted despair. But no man 
can lecture (for the service was called a lecture) 
for ever; and the discourse was at length closed, 
the clergyman not failing to make a profound bow 
towards the latticed gallery, little suspecting whom 
he honoured by that reverence. To judge from the 
haste with which they dispersed, the domestics of 
the Marquis were scarce more pleased with their 
late occupation than the anxious Captain Dalgetty ; 
indeed, many of them being Highlandmen, had the 
excuse of not understanding a single word which 
the clergyman spoke, although they gave their 
attendance on his doctrine by the special order of 
M‘Callum More, and would have done so had the 
preacher been a Turkish Imaum. 

But although the congregation dispersed thus 
rapidly, the divine remained behind in the chapel, 
and, walking up and down its Gothic precincts, 
seemed either to be meditating on what he had just 
been delivering, or preparing a fresh discourse for 
the next opportunity. Bold as he was, Dalgetty 
hesitated what he ought to do. Time, however, 
pressed, and every moment increased the chance of 
their escape being discovered by the jailor visiting 
the dungeon perhaps before his wonted time, and 
discovering the exchange which had been made 
there. At length, whispering Ranald, who watched 
all his motions, to follow him and preserve his coun- 
tenance, Captain Dalgetty, with a very composed 
air, descended a flight of steps which led from the 
gallery into the body of the chapel. A less experi- 
enced adventurer would have endeavoured to pass 
the worthy clergyman rapidly, in hopes to escape 
unnoticed. But the Captain, who foresaw the man- 
ifest danger of failing in such an attempt, walked 









A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


179 


gravely to meet the divine upon his walk in the 
midst of the chancel, and, pulling off his cap, was 
about to pass him after a formal reverence. But 
what was his surprise to view in the preacher the 
very same person with whom he had dined in the 
Castle of Ardenvohr ! Yet he speedily recovered 
his composure ; and ere the clergyman could speak, 
was the first to address him. “I could not,” he 
said, “leave this mansion without bequeathing to 
you, my very reverend sir, my humble thanks for 
the homily with which you have this evening 
favoured us.” 

“I did not observe, sir,” said the clergyman, 
“ that you were in the chapel.” 

“It pleased the honourable Marquis,” said Dal- 
getty, modestly, “ to grace me with a seat in his 
own gallery.” The divine bowed low at this inti- 
mation, knowing that such an honour was only 
vouchsafed to persons of very high rank. “ It has 
been my fate, sir,” said the Captain, “ in the sort 
of wandering life which I have led, to have heard 
different preachers of different religions — as for 
example, Lutheran, Evangelical, Reformed, Calvi- 
nistical, and so forth, but never have I listened to 
such a homily as yours.” 

“Call it a lecture, worthy sir,” said the divine, 
“ such is the phrase of our church.” 

“Lecture or homily,” said Dalgetty, “it was, as 
the High Germans say, ganz fortre flich ; and I 
could not leave this place without testifying unto 
you what inward emotions I have undergone during 
your edifying prelection ; and how I am touched to 
the quick, that I should yesterday, during the refec- 
tion, have seemed to infringe on the respect due to 
such a person as yourself.” 


i8o 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“Alas! my worthy sir,” said the clergyman, “we 
meet in this world as in the Valley of the Shadow 
of Death, not knowing against whom we may chance 
to encounter. In truth, it is no matter of marvel, if 
we sometimes jostle those, to whom, if known, we 
would yield all respect. Surely, sir, I would rather 
have taken you for a profane malignant than for 
such a devout person as you prove, who reveren- 
ces the great Master even in the meanest of his 
servants.” 

“It is always my custom to do so, learned sir,” 
answered Dalgetty ; “ for in the service of the im- 
mortal Gustavus — but I detain you from your 
meditations,” — his desire to speak of the King of 
Sweden being for once overpowered by the necessity 
of his circumstances. 

“ By no means, my worthy sir,” said the clergy- 
man. “ What was, I pray you, the order of that 
great Prince, whose memory is so dear to every 
Protestant bosom ? ” 

“ Sir, the drums heat to prayers morning and even- 
ing, as regularly as for parade; and if a soldier 
passed without saluting the chaplain, he had an 
hour’s ride on the wooden mare for his pains. Sir, 
I wish you a very good evening — I am obliged to 
depart the castle under M‘Callum More’s passport.” 

“Stay one instant, sir,” said the preacher; “is 
there nothing I can do to testify my respect for the 
pupil of the great Gustavus, and so admirable a 
judge of preaching ?” 

“Nothing, sir,” said the Captain, “but to show 
me the nearest way to the gate — and if you would 
have the kindness,” he added, with great effrontery, 
“ to let a servant bring my horse with him, the dark 
grey gelding — call him Gustavus, and he will prick 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 181 

up his ears — for I know not where the castle sta- 
bles are situated, and my guide,” he added, looking 
at Ranald, “ speaks no English.” 

“ I hasten to accommodate you,” said the clergy- 
man; “your way lies through that cloistered 
passage.” 

“ Now, Heaven’s blessing upon your vanity ! ” said 
the Captain to himself. “ I was afraid I would have 
had to march off without Gustavus.” 

In fact, so effectually did the chaplain exert him- 
self in behalf of so excellent a judge of composition, 
that while Dalgetty was parleying with the senti- 
nels at the drawbridge, showing his passport, and 
giving the watchword, a servant brought him his 
horse, ready saddled for the journey. In another 
place, the Captain’s sudden appearance at large after 
having been publicly sent to prison, might have ex- 
cited suspicion and enquiry; but the officers and 
domestics of the Marquis were accustomed to the 
mysterious policy of their master, and never sup- 
posed aught else than that he had been liberated 
and intrusted with some private commission by 
their master. In this belief, and having received 
the parole, they gave him free passage. 

Dalgetty rode slowly through the town of Inve- 
rary, the outlaw attending upon him like a foot- 
page at his horse’s shoulder. As they passed the 
gibbet, the old man looked on the bodies and wrung 
his hands. The look and gesture were momentary, 
but expressive of indescribable anguish. Instantly 
recovering himself, Ranald, in passing, whispered 
somewhat to one of the females, who, like Rizpah 
the daughter of Aiah, seemed engaged in watching 
and mourning the victims of feudal injustice and 
cruelty. The woman started at his voice, but im- 


182 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


mediately collected herself, and returned for answer 
a slight inclination of the head. 

Dalgetty continued his way out of the town, un- 
certain whether he should try to seize or hire a 
boat and cross the lake, or plunge into the woods, 
and there conceal himself from pursuit. In the for- 
mer event he was liable to be instantly pursued by 
the galleys of the Marquis, which lay ready for sail- 
ing, their long yard-arms pointing to the wind, and 
what hope could he have in an ordinary Highland 
fishing-boat to escape from them? If he made the 
latter choice, his chance either of supporting or con- 
cealing himself in those waste and unknown wilder- 
nesses, was in the highest degree precarious. The 
town lay now behind him, yet what hand to turn 
to for safety he was unable to determine, and began 
to be sensible, that in escaping from the dungeon 
at Inverary, desperate as the matter seemed, he had 
only accomplished the easiest part of a difficult task. 
If retaken, his fate was now certain ; for the personal 
injury he had offered to a man so powerful and so 
vindictive, could be atoned for only by instant death. 
While he pondered these distressing reflections, and 
looked around with a countenance which plainly 
expressed indecision, Ranald MacEagh suddenly 
asked him, “ which way he intended to journey ? ” 

“ And that, honest comrade,” answered Dalgetty, 
“is precisely the question which I cannot answer 
you. Truly I begin to hold the opinion, Ranald, 
that we had better have stuck by the brown loaf 
and water-pitcher until Sir Duncan arrived, who, 
for his own honour, must have made some fight for 
me. 

“ Saxon,” answered MacEagh, “ do not regret hav- 
ing exchanged the foul breath of yonder dungeon 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


183 


for the free air of heaven. Above all, repent not 
that you have served a Son of the Mist. Put your- 
self under my guidance, and I will warrant your 
safety with my head.” 

“ Can you guide me safe through these moun- 
tains, and hack to the army of Montrose ? ” said 
Dalgetty. 

“ I can,” answered MacEagh ; “ there lives not 
a man to whom the mountain passes, the caverns, 
the glens, the thickets, and the corries are known, 
as they are to the Children of the Mist. While 
others crawl on the level ground, by the sides of 
lakes and streams, ours are the steep hollows of 
the inaccessible mountains, the birth-place of the 
desert springs. Not all the bloodhounds of Argyle 
can trace the fastnesses through which I can guide 
you.” 

“ Say’st thou so, honest Ranald ? ” replied Dal- 
getty ; “then have on with thee; for of a surety I 
shall never , save the ship by my own pilotage.” 

The outlaw accordingly led the way into the 
wood, by which the castle is surrounded for sev- 
eral miles, walking with so much dispatch as kept 
Gustavus at a round trot, and taking such a num- 
ber of cross cuts and turns, that Captain Dalgetty 
speedily lost all idea where he might be, and all 
knowledge of the points of the compass. At length, 
the path, which had gradually become more diffi- 
cult, altogether ended among thickets and under- 
wood. The roaring of a torrent was heard in the 
neighbourhood, the ground became in some places 
broken, in others boggy, and everywhere unfit for 
riding. 

“What the foul fiend,” said Dalgetty, “is to be 
done here ? I must part with Gustavus, I fear.” 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


184 

“ Take no care for your horse/’ said the outlaw ; 
“ he shall soon he restored to you.” 

As he spoke, he whistled in a low tone, and a 
lad, half dressed in tartan, half naked, having only 
his own shaggy hair, tied with a thong of leather, 
to protect his head and face from sun and weather, 
lean, and half-starved in aspect, his wild grey eyes 
appearing to fill up ten times the proportion 
usually allotted to them in the human face, crept 
out, as a wild beast might have done, from a 
thicket of brambles and briars. 

“Give your horse to the gillie,” said Ranald 
MacEagh ; “ your life depends upon it.” 

“ Och ! och ! ” exclaimed the despairing veteran ; 
“Eheu! as we used to say at Maresclial-College, 
must I leave Gustavus in such grooming ? ” 

“ Are you frantic, to lose time thus ? ” said his 
guide ; “ do we stand on friend’s ground, that you 
should part with your horse as if he were your 
brother? I tell you, you shall have him again; 
but if you never saw the animal, is not life better 
than the best colt ever mare foaled ? ” , 

“And that is true too, mine honest friend,” 
sighed Dalgetty ; “ yet if you knew but the value 
of Gustavus, and the things we two have done and 
suffered together — See, he turns back to look at 
me ! — Be kind to him, my good breechless friend, 
and I will requite you well.” So saying, and withal 
sniffling a little to swallow his grief, he turned from 
the heart-rending spectacle in order to follow his 
guide. 

To follow his guide was no easy matter, and soon 
required more agility than Captain Dalgetty could 
master. The very first plunge after he had parted 
from his charger, carried him, with little assistance 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


185 


from a few overhanging boughs, or projecting roots 
of trees, eight foot sheer down into the course of a 
torrent, up which the Son of the Mist led the way. 
Huge stones, over which they scrambled, — thickets 
of thorn and brambles, through which they had to 
drag themselves, — rocks which were to be climbed 
on the one side with-much labour and pain, for the 
purpose of an equally precarious descent upon the 
other ; all these, and many such interruptions, were 
surmounted by the light-footed and half-naked 
mountaineer with an ease and velocity which 
excited the surprise and envy of Captain Dalgetty, 
who, encumbered by his head-piece, corslet, and 
other armour, not to mention his ponderous jack- 
boots, found himself at length so much exhausted 
by fatigue, and the difficulties of the road, that he 
sate down upon a stone in order to recover his 
breath, while he explained to Ranald MacEagh the 
difference betwixt travelling expeditus and impeditus , 
as these two military phrases were understood at 
Mareschal-College, Aberdeen. The sole answer of 
the mountaineer was to lay his hand on the soldier’s 
arm, and point backward in the direction of the 
wind. Dalgetty could spy nothing, for evening was 
closing fast, and they were at the bottom of a dark 
ravine. But at length he could distinctly hear at a 
distance the sullen toll of a large bell. 

“ That,” said he, “ must ' be the alarm — the 
storm-clock, as the Germans call it.” 

“ It strikes the hour of your death,” answered 
Ranald, “unless you can accompany me a little 
farther. For every toll of that bell a brave man 
has yielded up his soul.” 

“Truly, Ranald, my trusty friend,” said Dal- 
getty, “ I will not deny that the case may be soon 


1 86 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


my own ; for I am so forfoughen, (being, as I ex- 
plained to you, impeditus , for had I been expeditus, 
I mind not pedestrian exercise the flourish of a 
fife,) that I think I had better ensconce myself in 
one of these bushes, and even lie quiet there to abide 
what fortune God shall send me. I entreat you, 
mine honest friend Ranald, to shift for yourself, 
and leave me to my fortune, as the Lion of the 
North, the immortal Gustavus Adolphus, my never- 
to-be-forgotten master, (whom you must surely have 
heard of, Ranald, though you may have heard of no 
one else,) said to Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe- 
Lauenburgh, when he was mortally wounded on 
the plains of Lutzen. Neither despair altogether 
of my safety, Ranald, seeing I have been in as great 
pinches as this in Germany — more especially, I 
remember me, that at the fatal battle of Nerlingen 
— after which I changed service ” 

“ If you would save your father’s son’s breath to 
help his child out of trouble, instead of wasting it 
upon the tales of Seannachies,” said Ranald, who 
now grew impatient of the Captain’s loquacity, “ or 
if your feet could travel as fast as your tongue, you 
might yet lay your head on an unbloody pillow 
to-night.” 

“ Something there is like military skill in that,” 
replied the Captain, “ although wantonly and irrev- 
erently spoken to an officer of rank. But I hold 
it good to pardon such freedoms on a march, in 
respect of the Saturnalian license indulged in such 
cases to the troops of all nations. And now, re- 
sume thine office, friend Ranald, in respect I am 
well-breathed ; or, to be more plain, I prae, sequar, 
as we used to say at Mareschal-College.” 

Comprehending his meaning rather from his mo- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


187 


tions than his language, the Son of the Mist again 
led the way, with an unerring precision that looked 
like instinct, through a variety of ground the most 
difficult and broken that could well he imagined. 
Dragging along his ponderous boots, encumbered 
with thigh-pieces, gauntlets, corslet, and back-piece, 
not to mention the buff jerkin which he wore under 
all these arms, talking of his former exploits the 
whole way, though Ranald paid not the slightest 
attention to him, Captain Dalgetty contrived to 
follow his guide a considerable space farther, when 
the deep-mouthed haying of a hound was heard 
coming down the wind, as if opening on the scent 
of its prey. 

“ Black hound,” said Ranald, “ whose throat 
never boded good to a Child of the Mist, ill fortune 
to her who littered thee ! hast thou already found 
our trace ? But thou art too late, swart hound of 
darkness, and the deer has gained the herd.” 

So saying, he whistled very softly, and was an- 
swered in a tone equally low from the top of a pass, 
up which they had for some time been ascending. 
Mending their pace, they reached the top, where the 
moon, which had now risen bright and clear, showed 
to Dalgetty a party of ten or twelve Highlanders, 
and about as many women and children, by whom 
Ranald MacEagh was received with such transports 
of joy, as made his companion easily sensible that 
those by whom he was surrounded, must of course 
be Children of the Mist. The place which they 
occupied well suited their name and habits. It was 
a beetling crag, round which winded a very narrow 
and broken footpath, commanded in various places 
by the position which they held. 

Ranald spoke anxiously and hastily to the chil- 


1 88 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


dren of his tribe, and the men came one by one to 
shake hands with Dalgetty, while the women, clam- 
orous in their gratitude, pressed round to kiss even 
the hem of his garment. 

“They plight their faith to you,” said Ranald 
MacEagh, “ for requital of the good deed you have 
done to the tribe this day.” 

“Enough said, Ranald,” answered the soldier, 
“ enough said — tell them I love not this shaking of 
hands — it confuses ranks and degrees in military 
service ; and as to kissing of gauntlets, puldrons, 
and the like, I remember that the immortal Gusta- 
vus, as he rode through the streets of Nuremberg, 
being thus worshipped by the populace, (being 
doubtless far more worthy of it than a poor though 
honourable cavalier like myself,) did say unto them, 
in the way of rebuke, * If you idolize me thus like 
a god, who shall assure you that the vengeance of 
Heaven will not soon prove me to be a mortal ? ’ — 
And so here, I suppose, you intend to make a stand 
against your followers, Ranald — voto a Dios, as the 
Spaniard says ? — a very pretty position — as pretty 
a position for a small peloton of men as I have seen 
in my service — no enemy can come towards it by 
the road without being at the mercy of cannon and 
musket. — But then, Ranald, my trusty comrade, 
you have no cannon, I dare to aver, and I do not 
see that any of these fellows have muskets either. 
So with what artillery you propose making good 
the pass, before you come to hand blows, truly, Ra- 
nald, it passeth my apprehension.” 

“ With the weapons and with the courage of our 
fathers,” said MacEagh ; and made the Captain ob- 
serve, that the men of his party were armed with 
bows and arrows. ( i ) 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


189 


“ Bows and arrows ! ” exclaimed Dalgetty ; “ ha ! 
ha ! ha ! have we Robin Hood and Little John back 
again ? Bows and arrows ! why, the sight has not 
been seen in civilized war for a hundred years. 
Bows and arrows ! and why not weavers’-beams, as 
in the days of Goliah ? Ah ! that Dugald Dalgetty, 
of Drumthwacket, should live to see men fight with 
bows and arrows ! — The immortal Gustavus would 
never have believed it — nor Wallenstein — nor 
Butler — nor old Tilly. — Well, Ranald, a cat can 
have but its claws — since bows and arrows are the 
word, e’en let us make the best of it. Only, as I 
do not understand the scope and range of such old- 
fashioned artillery, you must make the best dispo- 
sition you can out of your own head ; for my taking 
the command, whilk I would have gladly done had 
you been to fight with any Christian weapons, is 
out of the question, when you are to combat like 
quivered Nurnidians. I will, however, play my 
part with my pistols in the approaching melley, in 
respect my carabine unhappily remains at Gusta- 
vus’s saddle. — My service and thanks to you,” he 
continued, addressing a mountaineer who offered 
him a bow ; “ Dugald Dalgetty may say of himself, 
as he learned at Maresehal-College, 

Non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu, 

Nec venenatis gravida sagittis, 

Eusce, pharetra ; 

whilk is to say ” 

Ranald MacEagh a second time imposed silence 
on the talkative commander as before, by pulling 
his sleeve, and pointing down the pass. The bay of 
the bloodhound was now approaching nearer and 
nearer, and they could hear the voices of several 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


190 

persons who accompanied the animal, and hallooed 
to each other as they dispersed occasionally, either 
in the hurry of their advance, or in order to search 
more accurately the thickets as they came along. 
They were obviously drawing nearer and nearer 
every moment. MacEagh, in the meantime, pro- 
posed to Captain Dalgetty to disencumber himself 
of his armour, and gave him to understand that the 
women should transport it to a place of safety. 

“ I crave your pardon, sir,” said Dalgetty, “ such 
is not the rule of our foreign service ; in respect I 
remember the regiment of Finland cuirassiers re- 
primanded, and their kettle-drums taken from them, 
by the immortal Gustavus, because they had as- 
sumed the permission to march without their cors- 
lets, and to leave them with the baggage. Neither 
did they strike kettle-drums again at the head of 
that famous regiment until they behaved themselves 
so notably at the field of Leipsic ; a lesson whilk is 
not to be forgotten, any more than that exclama- 
tion of the immortal Gustavus, * Now shall I know 
if my officers love me, by their putting on their ar- 
mour ; since, if my officers are slain, who shall lead 
my soldiers into victory ? * Nevertheless, friend 
Ranald, this is without prejudice to my being rid 
of these somewhat heavy boots, providing I can ob- 
tain any other succedaneum ; for I presume not 
to say that my bare soles are fortified so as to en- 
dure the flints and thorns, as seems to be the case 
with your followers.” 

To rid the Captain of his cumbrous greaves, and 
case his feet in a pair of brogues made out of deer- 
skin, which a Highlander stripped off for his 
accommodation, was the work of a minute, and Dal- 
getty found himself much lightened by the ex- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


191 


change. He was in the act of recommending to 
Ranald MacEagh, to send two or three of his fol- 
lowers a little lower to reconnoitre the pass, and, 
at the same time, somewhat to extend his front, 
placing two detached archers at each flank by way 
of posts of observation, when the near cry of the 
hound apprised them that the pursuers were at the 
bottom of the pass. All was then dead silence ; for, 
loquacious as he was on other occasions, Captain 
Dalgetty knew well the necessity of an ambush 
keeping itself under covert. 

The moon gleamed on the broken path-way, and 
on the projecting cliffs of rock round which it winded, 
its light intercepted here and there by the branches 
of bushes and dwarf-trees, which, finding nourish- 
ment in the crevices of the rocks, in some places 
overshadowed the brow and ledge of the preci- 
pice. Below, a thick copse-wood lay in deep and 
dark shadow, somewhat resembling the billows 
of a half-seen ocean. From the bosom of that 
darkness, and close to the bottom of the precipice, 
the hound was heard at intervals baying fearfully, 
sounds which were redoubled by the echoes of the 
woods and rocks around. At intervals* these sunk 
into deep silence, interrupted only by the plashing 
noise of a small runnel of water, which partly fell 
from the rock, partly found a more silent passage 
to the bottom along its projecting surface. Voices 
of men were also heard in stifled converse below ; 
it seemed as if the pursuers had not discovered the 
narrow path which led to the top of the rock, or 
that, having discovered it, the peril of the ascent, 
joined to the imperfect light, and the uncertainty 
whether it might not be defended, made them hesi- 
tate to attempt it. 


192 


TALES 0? MY LANDLORD. 


At length a shadowy figure was seen, which 
raised itself up from the abyss of darkness below, 
and, emerging into the pale moonlight, began cau- 
tiously and slowly to ascend the rocky path. The 
outline was so distinctly marked, that Captain Dal- 
getty could discover not only the person of a High- 
lander, but the long gun which he carried in his 
hand, and the plume of feathers which decorated 
his bonnet. “ Tausend teiflen ! that I should say so, 
and so like to be near my latter end ! ” ejaculated 
the Captain, but under his breath, “ what will be- 
come of us, now they have brought musketry to en- 
counter our archers ? ” 

But just as the pursuer had attained a project- 
ing piece of rock about half way up the ascent, and, 
pausing, made a signal for those who were still at 
the bottom to follow him, an arrow whistled from 
the bow of one of the Children of the Mist, and 
transfixed him with so fatal a wound, that, without 
a single effort to save himself, he lost his balance, 
and fell headlong from the cliff on which he stood, 
into the darkness below. The crash of the boughs 
which received him, and the heavy sound of his fall 
from thence to the ground, was followed by a cry 
of horror and surprise, which burst from his fol- 
lowers. The Children of the Mist, encouraged in 
proportion to the alarm this first success had caused 
among the pursuers, echoed back the clamour with 
a loud and shrill yell of exultation, and, showing 
themselves on the brow of the precipice, with wild 
cries and vindictive gestures, endeavoured to im- 
press on their enemies a sense at once of their 
courage, their numbers, and their state of defence. 
Even Captain Dalgetty’s military prudence did not 
prevent his rising up, and calling out to Ranald, 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


i93 


more loud than prudence warranted, " Carocco 
comrade, as the Spaniard says ! The long how for 
ever ! In my poor apprehension now, were you to 
order a file to advance and take position ” 

“The Sassenach!” cried a voice from beneath, 
“ mark the Sassenach sidier ! I see the glitter of 
his breastplate.” At the same time three muskets 
were discharged ; and while one ball rattled against 
the corslet of proof, to the strength of which our 
valiant Captain had been more than once indebted 
for his life, another penetrated the armour which 
covered the front of his left thigh, and stretched 
him on the ground. Ranald instantly seized him 
in his arms, and bore hiip back from the edge of 
the precipice, while he dolefully ejaculated, “ I al- 
ways told the immortal Gustavus, Wallenstein, 
Tilly, and other men of the sword, that, in my poor 
mind, taslets ought to be made musket-proof.” 

With two or three earnest words in Gaelic, Mac- 
Eagh commended the wounded man to the charge 
of the females, who were in the rear of his little 
party, and was then about to return to the contest. 
But Dalgetty detained him, grasping a firm hold 
of his plaid. — “I know not Row this matter may 
end — but I request you will inform Montrose, that 
I died like a follower of the immortal Gustavus — 
and I pray you, take heed how you quit your pre- 
sent strength, even for the purpose of pursuing 
the enemy, if you gain any advantage — and — 
and ” 

Here Dalgetty’s breath and eyesight began to 
fail him through loss of blood, and MacEagh, avail- 
ing himself of this circumstance, extricated from 
his grasp the end of his own mantle, and substi- 
tuted that of a female, by which the Captain held 

13 


194 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD 


stoutly, thereby securing, as he conceived, the out- 
law’s attention to the military instructions which 
he continued to pour forth while he had any breath 
to utter them, though they became gradually more 
and more incoherent — “ And, comrade, you will 
be sure to keep your musketeers in advance of 
your stand of pikes, Lochaber-axes, and two-handed 
swords — Stand fast, dragoons, on the left flank ! 
— where was I ? — Ay, and, Ranald, if ye be minded 
to retreat, leave some lighted matches burning on 
the branches of the trees — it shows as if they 
were lined with shot — But I forget — ye have no 
match-locks nor habergeons — only bows and ar- 
rows — bows and arrows ! ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

Here the captain sunk back in an exhausted 
condition, although unable to resist the sense of 
the ludicrous which, as a modern man-at-arms, he 
connected with the idea of these ancient weapons 
of war. It was a long time ere he recovered his 
senses ; and, in the meantime, we leave him in the 
care of the Daughters of the Mist ; nurses as kind 
and attentive, in reality, as they were wild and un- 
couth in outward appearance. 


CHAPTER XY. 


But if no faithless action stain 
Thy true and constant word, 

I’ll make thee famous by my pen, 

And glorious by my sword. 

I’ll serve thee in such noble ways 
As ne’er were known before ; 

I’ll deck and crown thy head with bays, 

And love thee more and more. 

Montrose’s Lines. 

We must now leave, with whatever regret, the 
valiant Captain Dalgetty, to recover of his wounds 
or otherwise as fate shall determine, in order briefly 
to trace the military operations of Montrose, wor- 
thy as they are of a more important page, and a 
better historian. By the assistance of the chieftains 
whom we have commemorated, and more especially 
by the junction of the Murrays, Stewarts, and other 
clans of Athole, which were peculiarly zealous in 
the royal cause, he soon assembled an army of two 
or three thousand Highlanders, to whom he suc- 
cessfully united the Irish under Colkitto. This last 
leader, who, to the great embarrassment of Milton’s 
commentators, is commemorated in one of that 
great poet’s sonnets , 1 was properly named Alister, 

1 Milton’s book, entitled Tetrachordon, had been ridiculed, it 
would seem, by the divines assembled at Westminster, and others, 
on account of the hardness of the title ; and Milton in his sonnet 


96 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD 


or Alexander M'Donnell, by birth a Scottish isles- 
man, and related to the Earl of Antrim, to whose 
patronage he owed the command assigned him in 
the Irish troops. In many respects he merited this 
distinction. He was brave to intrepidity, and al- 
most to insensibility ; very strong and active in 
person, completely master of his weapons, and al- 
ways ready to show the example in the extremity 
of danger. To counterbalance these good qualities, 
it must be recorded, that he was inexperienced in 
military tactics, and of a jealous and presumptuous 
disposition, which often lost to Montrose the fruits 
of Colkitto’s gallantry. Yet such is the predomi- 
nance of outward personal qualities in the eyes of 
a wild people, that the feats of strength and cour- 
age shown by this champion, seem to have made a 
stronger impression upon the minds of the High- 
landers, than the military skill and chivalrous spirit 
of the great Marquis of Montrose. Numerous tra- 
ditions are still preserved in the Highland glens 
concerning Alister McDonnell, though the name of 
Montrose is rarely mentioned among them. 

The point upon which Montrose finally as- 
sembled his little army, was in Strathearn, on the 

retaliates upon the barbarous Scottish names which the Civil War 
had made familiar to English ears : — 

why is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, 

Colkitto, or M‘ Donald, or Gallasp 1 

These rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek, 

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 

“ We may suppose,” says Bishop Newton, “ that these were 
persons of note among the Scotch ministers, who were for press- 
ing and enforcing the Covenant ; ” whereas Milton only intends 
to ridicule the barbarism of Scottish names in general, and 
quotes, indiscriminately, that of Gillespie, one of the Apostles 
of the Covenant, and those of Colkitto and M'Donnell, (both 
belonging to one person,) one of its bitterest enemies. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


197 


verge of the Highlands of Perthshire, so as to men- 
ace the principal town of that county. 

His enemies were not unprepared for his recep- 
tion. Argyle, at the head of his Highlanders, was 
dogging the steps of the Irish from the west to the 
east, and by force, fear, or influence, had collected 
an army nearly sufficient to have given battle to 
that under Montrose. The Lowlands were also pre- 
pared, for reasons which we assigned at the begin- 
ning of this tale. A body of six thousand infantry, 
and six or seven thousand cavalry, which profanely 
assumed the title of God’s army, had been hastily as- 
sembled from the shires of Fife, Angus, Perth, Stirl- 
ing, and the neighbouring counties. A much less 
force in former times, nay, even in the preceding 
reign, would have been sufficient to have secured 
the Lowlands against a more formidable descent of 
Highlanders, than those united under Montrose ; 
but times had changed strangely within the last half 
century. Before that period, the Lowlanders were 
as constantly engaged in war as the mountaineers, 
and were incomparably better disciplined and 
armed. The favourite Scottish order of battle some- 
what resembled the Macedonian phalanx. Their 
infantry formed a compact body, armed with long 
spears, impenetrable even to the men-at-arms of the 
age, though well mounted, and arrayed in com- 
plete proof. It may easily be conceived, therefore, 
that their ranks could not be broken by the disor- 
derly charge of Highland infantry armed for close 
combat only, with swords, and ill furnished with 
missile weapons, and having no artillery whatever. 

This habit of fight was in a great measure 
changed by the introduction of muskets into the 
Scottish Lowland service, which, not being as yet 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


198 

combined with the bayonet, was a formidable 
weapon at a distance, but gave no assurance against 
the enemy who rushed on to close quarters. The 
pike, indeed, was not wholly disused in the Scottish 
army ; but it was no longer the favourite weapon, 
nor was it relied upon as formerly by those in 
whose hands it was placed ; insomuch that Daniel 
Lupton, a tactician of the day, has written a book 
expressly upon the superiority of the musket. This 
change commenced as early as the wars of Gustavus 
Adolphus, whose marches were made with such 
rapidity, that the pike was very soon thrown aside 
in his army, and exchanged for fire-arms. A circum- 
stance which necessarily accompanied this change, 
as well as the establishment of standing armies, 
whereby war became a trade, was the introduction 
of a laborious and complicated system of discipline, 
combining a variety of words of command with 
corresponding operations and manoeuvres, the neg- 
lect of any one of which was sure to throw the 
whole into confusion. War, therefore, as practised 
among most nations of Europe, had assumed much 
more than formerly the character of a profession or 
mystery, to which previous practice and experience 
were indispensable requisites. Such was the natu- 
ral consequence of standing armies, which had al- 
most everywhere, and particularly in the long 
German wars, superseded what may be called the 
natural discipline of the feudal militia. 

The Scottish Lowland militia, therefore, laboured 
under a double disadvantage when opposed to High- 
landers. They were divested of the spear, a weapon 
which, in the hands of their ancestors, had so often 
repelled the impetuous assaults of the mountaineer ; 
and they were subjected to a new and complicated 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


199 


species of discipline, well adapted, perhaps, to the 
use of regular troops, who could be rendered com- 
pletely masters of it, but tending only to confuse 
the ranks of citizen soldiers, by whom it was rarely 
practised, and imperfectly understood. So much 
has been done in our own time in bringing back 
tactics to their first principles, and in getting rid 
of the pedantry of war, that it is easy for us to 
estimate the disadvantages under which /a half- 
trained militia laboured, who were taught to con- 
sider success as depending upon their exercising 
with precision a system of tactics, which they prob- 
ably only so far comprehended as to find out when 
they were wrong, but without the power of getting 
right again. Neither can it be denied, that, in the 
material points of military habits and warlike spirit, 
the Lowlanders of the seventeenth century had 
sunk far beneath their Highland countrymen. 

From the earliest period down to the union of 
the crowns, the whole kingdom of Scotland, Low- 
lands as well as Highlands, had been the constant 
scene of war, foreign and domestic ; and there was 
probably scarce one of its hardy inhabitants, be- 
tween the age of sixteen and sixty, who was not 
as willing in point of fact, as he was literally bound 
in law, to assume arms at the first call of his liege 
lord, or of a royal proclamation. The law remained 
the same in sixteen hundred and forty-five as a 
hundred years before, but the race of those sub- 
jected to it had been bred up under very different 
feelings. They had sat in quiet under their vine 
and under their fig-tree, and a call to battle involved 
a change of life as new as it was disagreeable. Such 
of them, also, who lived near unto the Highlands, 
were in continual and disadvantageous contact with 


200 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


the restless inhabitants of those mountains, by 
whom their cattle were driven off, their dwellings 
plundered, and their persons insulted, and who had 
acquired over them that sort of superiority arising 
from a constant system of aggression. The Low- 
landers, who lay more remote, and out of reach of 
these depredations, were influenced by the exagger- 
ated reports circulated concerning the Highlanders, 
whom, as totally differing in laws, language, and 
dress, they were induced to regard as a nation of 
savages, equally void of fear and of humanity. 
These various prepossessions, joined to the less war- 
like habits of the Lowlanders, and their imperfect 
knowledge of the new and complicated system of 
discipline for which they had exchanged their natu- 
ral mode of fighting, placed them at great disadvan- 
tage when opposed to the Highlander in the field 
of battle. The mountaineers, on the contrary, with 
the arms and courage of their fathers, possessed 
also their simple and natural system of tactics, and 
bore down with the fullest confidence upon an 
enemy, to whom anything they had been taught of 
discipline was, like Saul’s armour upon David, a 
hinderance rather than a help, “ because they had 
not proved it.” 

It was with such disadvantages on the one side, 
and such advantages on the other, to counterbalance 
the difference of superior numbers and the presence 
of artillery and cavalry, that Montrose encountered 
the army of Lord Elcho upon the field of Tipper- 
muir. The Presbyterian clergy had not been want- 
ing in their efforts to rouse the spirit of their 
followers; and one of them, who harangued the 
troops on the very day of battle, hesitated not to 
say, that if ever God spoke by his mouth, he prom- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


201 


ised them, in His name, that day, a great and 
assured victory. The cavalry and artillery were 
also reckoned sure warrants of success, as the nov- 
elty of their attack had upon former occasions been 
very discouraging to the Highlanders. The place of 
meeting was an open heath, and the ground afforded 
little advantage to either party, except that it allowed 
the horse of the Covenanters to act with effect. 

A battle, upon which so much depended, was 
never more easily decided. The Lowland cavalry 
made a show of charging ; but, whether thrown into 
disorder by the fire of musketry, or deterred by a 
disaffection to the service said to have prevailed 
among the gentlemen, they made no impression on 
the Highlanders whatever, and recoiled in disorder 
from ranks which had neither bayonets nor pikes 
to protect them. Montrose saw, and instantly 
availed himself of this advantage. He ordered his 
whole army to charge, which they performed with 
the wild and desperate valour peculiar to mountain- 
eers. One officer of the Covenanters alone, trained 
in the Italian wars, made a desperate defence upon 
the right wing. In every other point their line was 
penetrated at the first onset; and this advantage 
once obtained, the Lowlanders were utterly unable 
to contend at close quarters with their more agile 
and athletic enemies. Many were slain on the field, 
and such a number in the pursuit, that above one- 
third of the Covenanters were reported to have 
fallen; in which number, however, must be com- 
puted a great many fat burgesses who broke their 
wind in the flight, and thus died without stroke of 
sword . 1 


i We choose to quote our authority for a fact so singular : — 
A great many burgesses were killed — twenty-five householders 


202 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


The victors obtained possession of Perth, and 
obtained considerable sums of money, as well as 
ample supplies of arms and ammunition. But 
those advantages were to be balanced against an 
almost insurmountable inconvenience that uni- 
formly attended a Highland army. The clans 
could be in no respect induced to consider them- 
selves as regular soldiers, or to act as such. Even 
so late as the year 1745-6, when the Chevalier 
Charles Edward, by way of making an example, 
caused a soldier to be shot for desertion, the High- 
landers, who composed his army, were affected as 
much by indignation as by fear. They could not 
conceive any principle of justice upon which a 
man’s life could be taken, for merely going home 
when it did not suit him to remain longer with the 
army. Such had been the uniform practice of their 
fathers. When a battle was over, the campaign 
was, in their opinion, ended; if it was lost, they 
sought safety in their mountains — if won, they 
returned there to secure their booty. At other 
times they had their cattle to look after, and their 
harvests to sow or reap, without which their fami- 
lies would have perished for want. In either case, 
there was an end of their services for the time ; and 
though they were easily enough recalled by the 
prospect of fresh adventures and more plunder, yet 
the opportunity of success was, in the meantime, 
lost, and could not afterwards be recovered. This 
circumstance serves to show, even if history had 
not made us acquainted with the same fact, that 
the Highlanders had never been accustomed to 
make war with the view of permanent conquest, 

in St. Andrews — many were bursten in the flight, and died with- 
out stroke.” — See Baillie’s Letters , vol. ii.page 92. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


203 


but only with the hope of deriving temporary ad- 
vantage, or deciding some immediate quarrel. It 
also explains the reason why Montrose, with all 
his splendid successes, never obtained any secure 
or permanent footing in the Lowlands, and why 
even those Lowland noblemen and gentlemen, who 
were inclined to the royal cause, showed diffidence 
and reluctance to join an army of a character so 
desultory and irregular, as might lead them at all 
times to apprehend that the Highlanders, securing 
themselves by a retreat to their mountains, would 
leave whatever Lowlanders might have joined them 
to the mercy of an offended and predominant 
enemy. The same consideration will also serve to 
account for the sudden marches which Montrose 
was obliged to undertake, in order to recruit his 
army in the mountains, and for the rapid changes 
of fortune, by which we often find him obliged to 
retreat from before those enemies over whom he 
had recently been victorious. If there should be 
any who read these tales for any further purpose 
than that of immediate amusement, they will find 
these remarks not unworthy of their recollection. 

It was owing to such causes, the slackness of the 
Lowland loyalists and the temporary desertion of 
his Highland followers, that Montrose found him- 
self, even after the decisive victory of Tippermuir, 
in no condition to face the second army with which 
Argyle advanced upon him from the westward. In 
this emergency, supplying by velocity the want of 
strength, he moved suddenly from Perth to Dun- 
dee, and being refused admission into that town, 
fell northward upon Aberdeen, where he expected 
to be joined by the Gordons and other loyalists. 
But the zeal of these gentlemen was, for the time, 


204 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


effectually bridled by a large body of Covenanters, 
commanded by the Lord Burleigh, and supposed 
to amount to three thousand men. These Mont- 
rose boldly attacked with half their number. The 
battle was fought under the walls of the city, and 
the resolute valour of Montrose's followers was 
again successful against every disadvantage. 

But it was the fate of this great commander al- 
ways to gain the glory, but seldom to reap the fruits 
of victory. He had scarcely time to repose his 
small army in Aberdeen, ( k ) ere he found, on the 
one hand, that the Gordons were likely to be de- 
terred from joining him, by the reasons we have 
mentioned, with some others peculiar to their chief, 
the Marquis of Huntly ; on the other hand, Argyle, 
whose forces had been augmented by those of sev- 
eral Lowland noblemen, advanced towards Montrose 
at the head of an army much larger than he had 
yet had to cope with. These troops moved, indeed, 
with slowness, corresponding to the cautious char- 
acter of their commander; but even that caution 
rendered Argyle’s approach formidable, since his 
very advance implied, that he was at the head of 
an army irresistibly superior. 

There remained one mode of retreat open to 
Montrose, and he adopted it. He threw himself 
into the Highlands, where he could set pursuit at 
defiance, and where he was sure, in every glen, to 
recover those recruits who had left his standard to 
deposit their booty in their native fastnesses. It 
was thus that the singular character of the army 
which Montrose commanded, while, on the one 
hand, it rendered his victory in some degree nuga- 
tory, enabled him, on the other, under the most 
disadvantageous circumstances, to secure his re- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


205 


treat, recruit his forces, and render himself more 
formidable than ever to the enemy, before whom he 
had lately been unable to make a stand. 

On the present occasion he threw himself into 
Badenoch, and rapidly traversing that district, as 
well as the neighbouring country of Athole, he 
alarmed the Covenanters by successive attacks 
upon various unexpected points, and spread such 
general dismay, that repeated orders were dis- 
patched by the Parliament to Argyle, their com- 
mander, to engage, and disperse Montrose at all 
rates. 

These commands from his superiors neither 
suited the haughty spirit, nor the temporizing and 
cautious policy, of the nobleman to whom they 
were addressed. He paid, accordingly, no regard 
to them, but limited his efforts to intrigues among 
Montrose’s few Lowland followers, many of whom 
had become disgusted with the prospect of a High- 
land campaign, which exposed their persons to 
intolerable fatigue, and left their estates at the 
-Covenanters’ mercy. Accordingly, several of them 
left Montrose’s camp at this period. He was 
joined, however, by a body of forces of more con- 
genial spirit, and far better adapted to the situation 
in which he found himself. This reinforcement 
consisted of a large body of Highlanders, whom 
Colkitto, dispatched for that purpose, had levied in 
Argyleshire. Among the most distinguished was 
John of Moidart, called the Captain of Clan Ranald, 
with the Stewarts of Appin, the Clan Gregor, the 
Clan M‘Nab, and other tribes of inferior distinction. 
By these means, Montrose’s army was so formidably 
increased, that Argyle cared no longer to remain in 
the command of that opposed to him, but returned 


206 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


to Edinburgh, and there threw up his commission, 
under pretence that his army was not supplied with 
reinforcements and provisions in the manner in 
which they ought to have been. From thence the 
Marquis returned to Inverary, there, in full se- 
curity, to govern his feudal vassals, and patriarchal 
followers, and to repose himself in safety on the 
faith of the Clan proverb already quoted — “ It is 
a far cry to Lochow.” 


CHAPTER XYI. 


Such mountains steep, such craggy hills, 

His army on one side enclose : 

The other side, great griesly gills 
Did fence with fenny mire and moss. 

Which when the Earl understood, 

He council craved of captains all, 

Who bade set forth with mournful mood, 

And take such fortune as would fall. 

Flodden Field , an Ancient Poem. 

Montrose had now a splendid career in his view, 
provided he could obtain the consent of his gallant, 
but desultory troops, and their independent chief- 
tains. The Lowlands lay open before him without 
an army adequate to check his career ; for Argyle’s 
followers had left the Covenanters’ host when their 
master threw up his commission, and many other 
troops, tired of the war, had taken the same op- 
portunity to disband themselves. By descending 
Strath-Tay, therefore, one of the most convenient 
passes from the Highlands, Montrose had only to 
present himself in the Lowlands, in order to rouse 
the slumbering spirit of chivalry and of loyalty 
which animated the gentlemen to the north of the 
Forth. The possession of these districts, with or 
without a victory, would give him the command of a 
wealthy and fertile part of the kingdom, and would 
enable him, by regular pay, to place his army on a 
more permanent footing, to penetrate as far as the 


208 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


capital, perhaps from thence to the Border, where 
he deemed it possible to communicate with the yet 
unsubdued forces of King Charles. 

Such was the plan of operations by which the 
truest glory was to be acquired, and the most im- 
portant success insured for the royal cause. Accord- 
ingly it did not escape the ambitious and daring 
spirit of him whose services had already acquired 
him the title of the Great Marquis. But other 
motives actuated many of his followers, and perhaps 
were not without their secret and unacknowledged 
influence upon his own feelings. 

The Western Chiefs in Montrose’s army, almost 
to a man, regarded the Marquis of Argyle as the 
most direct and proper object of hostilities. Almost 
all of them had felt his power ; almost all, in with- 
drawing their fencible men from their own glens, 
left their families and property exposed to his ven- 
geance; all, without exception, were desirous of 
diminishing his sovereignty ; and most of them lay 
so near his territories, that they might reasonably 
hope to be gratified by a share of his spoil. To these 
Chiefs the possession of Inverary and its castle was 
an event infinitely more important and desirable 
than the capture of Edinburgh. The latter event 
could only afford their clansmen a little transitory 
pay or plunder; the former insured to the Chiefs 
themselves indemnity for the past, and security for 
the future. Besides these personal reasons, the 
leaders, who favoured this opinion, plausibly urged, 
that though, at his first descent into the Lowlands, 
Montrose might be superior to the enemy, yet 
every day’s march he made from the hills must 
diminish his own forces, and expose him to the 
accumulated superiority of any army which the 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


209 


Covenanters could collect from the Lowland levies 
and garrisons. On the other hand, by crushing 
Argyle effectually, he would not only permit his 
present western friends to bring out that proportion 
of their forces which they must otherwise leave at 
home for protection of their families ; but farther, 
he would draw to his standard several tribes already 
friendly to his cause, but who were prevented from 
joining him by fear of M'Callum More. 

These arguments, as we have already hinted, 
found something responsive in Montrose’s own 
bosom, not quite consonant with the general hero- 
ism of his character. The houses of Argyle and 
Montrose had been, in former times, repeatedly 
opposed to each other in war and in politics, and 
the superior advantages acquired by the former, had 
made them the subject of envy and dislike to the 
neighbouring family, who, conscious of equal desert, 
had not been so richly rewarded. This was not all. 
The existing heads of these rival families had stood 
in the most marked opposition to each other since 
the commencement of the present troubles. 

Montrose, conscious of the superiority of his tal- 
ents, and of having rendered great service to the 
Covenanters at the beginning of the war, had ex- 
pected from that party the supereminence of council 
and command, which they judged it safer to intrust- 
to the more limited faculties, and more extensive 
power, of his rival Argyle. The having awarded 
this preference, was an injury which Montrose never 
forgave the Covenanters; and he was still less 
likely to extend his pardon to Argyle, to whom he 
had been postponed. He was therefore stimulated 
by every feeling of hatred which could animate a 
fiery temper in a fierce age, to seek for revenge upon 

14 


210 


TALES 0E MY LANDLORD. 


the enemy of his house and person ; and it is prob- 
able that these private motives operated not a little 
upon his mind, when he found the principal part of 
his followers determined rather to undertake an 
expedition against the territories of Argyle, than to 
take the far more decisive step of descending at 
once into the Lowlands. 

Yet whatever temptation Montrose found to 
carry into effect his attack upon Argyleshire, he 
could not easily bring himself to renounce the 
splendid achievement of a descent upon the Low- 
lands. He held more than one council with the 
principal Chiefs, combating, perhaps, his own secret 
inclination as well as theirs. He laid before them 
the extreme difficulty of marching even a Highland 
army from the eastward into Argyleshire, through 
passes scarcely practicable for shepherds and deer- 
stalkers, and over mountains with which even the 
clans lying nearest to them did not pretend to be 
thoroughly acquainted. These difficulties were 
greatly enhanced by the season of the year, which 
was now advancing towards December, when the 
mountain-passes, in themselves so difficult, might 
be expected to be rendered utterly impassable by 
snow-storms. These objections neither satisfied nor 
silenced the Chiefs, who insisted upon their ancient 
mode of making war, by driving the cattle, which, 
according to the Gaelic phrase, “ fed upon the grass 
of their enemy.” 'The council was dismissed late 
at night, and without coming to any decision, ex- 
cepting that the Chiefs, who supported the opinion 
that Argyle should be invaded, promised to seek 
out among their followers those who might be most 
capable of undertaking the office of guides upon the 
expedition. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


21 


Montrose had retired to the cabin which served 
him for a tent, and stretched himself upon a bed of 
dry fern, the only place of repose which it afforded. 
But he courted sleep in vain, for the visions of 
ambition excluded those of Morpheus. In one 
moment he imagined himself displaying the royal 
banner from the reconquered Castle of Edinburgh, 
detaching assistance to a monarch whose crown de- 
pended upon his success, and receiving in requital 
all the advantages and preferments which could be 
heaped upon him whom a king delighteth to honour. 
At another time this dream, splendid as it was, 
faded before the vision of gratified vengeance, and 
personal triumph over a personal enemy. To sur- 
prise Argyle in his stronghold of Inverary — to 
crush in him at once the rival of his own house and 
the chief support of the Presbyterians — to show 
the Covenanters the difference between the pre- 
ferred Argyle and the postponed Montrose, was a 
picture too flattering to feudal vengeance to be 
easily relinquished. 

While he lay thus busied with contradictory 
thoughts and feelings, the soldier who stood sentinel 
upon his quarters announced to the Marquis that 
two persons desired to speak with his Excellency. 

“ Their names ? ” answered Montrose, “ and the 
cause of their urgency at such a late hour ? ” 

On these points, the sentinel, who was one of 
Colkitto’s Irishmen, could afford his General little 
information ; so that Montrose, who at such a per- 
iod durst refuse access to no one, lest he might 
have been neglecting some important intelligence, 
gave directions, as a necessary precaution, to put 
the guard under arms, and then prepared to re- 
ceive his untimely visitors. His groom of the 


212 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


chambers had scarce lighted a pair of torches, and 
Montrose himself had scarce risen from his couch, 
when two men entered, one wearing a Lowland 
dress, of shamoy leather worn almost to tatters ; the 
other a tall upright old Highlander, of a complexion 
which might be termed iron-grey, wasted and worn 
by frost and tempest. 

“What may be your commands with me, my 
friends ? ” said the Marquis, his hand almost uncon- 
sciously seeking the but of one of his pistols ; for 
the period, as well as the time of night, warranted 
suspicions which the good mien of his visitors was 
not by any means calculated to remove. 

“ I pray leave to congratulate you,” said the 
Lowlander, “ my most noble General, and right 
honourable lord, upon the great battles which you 
have achieved since I had the fortune to be detached 
from you. It was a pretty affair that tuilzie at 
Tippermuir; nevertheless, if I might be permitted 
to counsel ” 

“Before doing so,” said the Marquis, “will you 
be pleased to let me know who is so kind as to 
favour me with his opinion ? ” 

“ Truly, my lord,” replied the man, “ I should 
have hoped that was unnecessary, seeing it is not 
so long since I took on in your service, under prom- 
ise of a commission as Major, with half a dollar 
of daily pay and half a dollar of arrears ; and I am 
to trust your lordship has not forgotten my pay as 
well as my person ? ” 

“My good friend, Major Dalgetty,” said Mon- 
trose, who by this time perfectly recollected his 
man, “you must consider what important things 
have happened to put my friends’ faces out of my 
memory, besides this imperfect light ; but all con- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE, 


213 


ditions shall be kept. — And what news from Ar- 
gyleshire, my good Major? We have long given 
you up for lost, and I was now preparing to take 
the most signal vengeance upon the old fox who 
infringed the law of arms in your person.” 

“ Truly, my noble lord,” said Dalgetty, “ I have 
no desire that my return should put any stop to so 
proper and becoming an intention; verily it is in 
no shape in the Earl of Argyle’s favour or mercy 
that I now stand before you, and I shall be no in- 
tercessor for him. But my escape is, under Hea- 
ven, and the excellent dexterity which, as an old 
and accomplished cavalier, I displayed in effecting 
the same, — I say, under these, it is owing to the 
assistance of this old Highlander, whom I venture 
to recommend to your lordship’s special favour, as 
the instrument of saving your lordship’s to com- 
mand, Dugald Dalgetty of Drumthwacket.” 

“ A thankworthy service,” said the Marquis, 
gravely, “ which shall certainly be requited in the 
manner it deserves.” 

“ Kneel down, Ranald,” said Major Dalgetty, 
(as we must now call him,) “ kneel down, and kiss 
his Excellency’s hand.” 

The prescribed form of acknowledgment not be- 
ing according to the custom of Ranald’s country, 
he contented himself with folding his arms on his 
bosom, and making a low inclination of his head. 

“ This poor man, my lord,” said Major Dalgetty, 
continuing his speech with a dignified air of pro- 
tection towards Ranald M‘Eagh, “ has strained all 
his slender means to defend my person from mine 
enemies, although having no better weapons of a 
missile sort than bows and arrows, whilk your lord- 
ship will hardly believe.” 


214 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ You will see a great many such weapons 
in my camp,” said Montrose, “and we find them 
serviceable.” 1 

“ Serviceable, my lord I ” said Dalgetty ; “ I trust 
your lordship will permit me to be surprised — bows 
and arrows ! — I trust you will forgive my recom- 
mending the substitution of muskets, the first con- 
venient opportunity. But besides defending me, 
this honest Highlander also was at the pains of 
curing me, in respect that I had got a touch of the 
wars in my retreat, which merits my best requital 
in this special introduction of him to your lord- 
ship’s notice and protection.” 

“ What is your name, my friend ? ” said Montrose, 
turning to the Highlander. 

“ It may not be spoken,” answered the mountaineer. 

“ That is to say,” interpreted Major Dalgetty, “ he 
desires to have his name concealed, in respect he 
hath in former days taken a castle, slain certain 
children, and done other things, whilk, as your 
good lordship knows, are often practised in war 
time, but excite no benevolence towards the per- 
petrator in the friends of those who sustain in- 
jury. I have known, in my military experience, 
many brave cavaliers put to death by the boors, 
simply for having used military license upon the 
country.” 

“ I understand,” said Montrose : “ this person is 
at feud with some of our followers. Let him retire 
to the court of guard, and we will think of the best 
mode of protecting him.” 

1 In fact, for the admirers of archery it may be stated, not 
only that many of the Highlanders in Montrose’s army used 
these antique missiles, but even in England the bow and quiver, 
once the glory of the bold yeomen of that land, were occasionally 
used during the great civil wars. 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


215 


“ You hear, Ranald,” said Major Dalgetty, with an 
air of superiority, “his Excellency wishes to hold 
privy council with me, you must go to the court of 
guard. — He does not know where that is, poor fel- 
low ! — he is a young soldier for so old a man ; I 
will put him under the charge of a sentinel, and re- 
turn to your lordship incontinent.” He did so, and 
returned accordingly. 

Montrose’s first enquiry respected the embassy to 
Inverary; and he listened with attention to Dal- 
getty’s reply, notwithstanding the prolixity of the 
Major’s narrative. It required an effort from the 
Marquis to maintain his attention ; hut no one bet- 
ter knew, that where information is to be derived 
from the report of such agents as Dalgetty, it can 
only be obtained by suffering them to tell their 
story in their own way. Accordingly the Marquis’s 
patience was at length rewarded. Among other 
spoils which the Captain thought himself at liberty 
to take, was a packet of Argyle’s private papers. 
These he consigned to the hands of his General ; a 
humour of accounting, however, which went no far- 
ther, for I do not understand that he made any 
mention of the purse of gold which he had appro- 
priated at the same time that he made seizure of 
the papers aforesaid. Snatching a torch from the 
wall, Montrose was in an instant deeply engaged in 
the perusal of these documents, in which it is prob- 
able he found something to animate his personal 
resentment against his rival Argyle. 

“ Does he not fear me ? ” said he ; “ then he shall 
feel me. Will he fire my castle of Murdoch? — In- 
verary shall raise the first smoke. — 0 for a guide 
through the skirts of Strath-Fillan ! ” 

Whatever might be Dalgetty’s personal conceit, 


216 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


he understood his business sufficiently to guess at 
Montrose’s meaning. He instantly interrupted his 
own prolix narration of the skirmish which had 
taken place, and the wound he had received in his 
retreat, and began to speak to the point which he 
saw interested his General. 

“If,” said he, “your Excellency wishes to make 
an infall into Argyleshire, this poor man, Ranald, 
of whom I told you, together with his children and 
companions, know every pass into that land, both 
leading from the east and from the north.” 

“Indeed]” said Montrose; “what reason have 
you to believe their knowledge so extensive ? ” 

“ So please your Excellency,” answered Dalgetty, 
“ during the weeks that I remained with them for 
cure of my wound, they were repeatedly obliged to 
shift their quarters, in respect of Argyle’s repeated 
attempts to repossess himself of the person of an 
officer who was honoured with your Excellency’s 
confidence ; so that I had occasion to admire the sin- 
gular dexterity and knowledge of the face of the 
country with which they alternately achieved their 
retreat and their advance ; and when, at length, I was 
able to repair to your Excellency’s standard, this 
honest simple creature, Ranald MacEagh, guided 
me by paths which my steed Gustavus (which 
your lordship may remember) trode with perfect 
safety, so that I said to myself, that where guides, 
spies, or intelligencers, were required in a Highland 
campaign in that western country, more expert per- 
sons than he and his attendants could not possibly 
be desired.” 

“ And can you answer for this man’s fidelity ? ” 
said Montrose; “what is his name and condition?” 

“ He is an outlaw and robber by profession, some- 







A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


217 


thing also of a homicide or murderer,” answered 
Dalgetty ; “ and by name, called Ranald MacEagh ; 
whilk signifies, Ranald, the Son of the Mist.” 

“I should remember something of that name,” 
said Montrose, pausing: “ Did not these Children 
of the Mist perpetrate some act of cruelty upon the 
M'Aulays ? ” 

Major Dalgetty mentioned the circumstance of 
the murder of the forester, and Montrose’s active 
memory at once recalled all the circumstances of 
the feud. 

“ It is most unlucky,” said Montrose, “ this inex- 
piable quarrel between these men and the M'Aulays. 
Allan has borne himself bravely in these wars, and 
possesses, by the wild mystery of his behaviour and 
language, so much influence over the minds of his 
countrymen, that the consequences of disobliging 
him might be serious. At the same time, these 
men being so capable of rendering useful service, 
and being, as you say, Major Dalgetty, perfectly 
trustworthy ” 

“ I will pledge my pay and arrears, my horse and 
arms, my head and neck, upon their fidelity,” said 
the Major; “and your Excellency knows, that a 
soldado could say no more for his own father.” 

“ True,” said Montrose ; “ but as this is a matter 
of particular moment, I would willingly know the 
grounds of so positive an assurance.” 

“ Concisely then, my lord,” said the Major, “ not 
only did they disdain to profit by a handsome re- 
ward which Argyle did me the honour to place upon 
this poor head of mine, and not only did they ab- 
stain from pillaging my personal property, whilk 
was to an amount that would have tempted regular 
soldiers in any service of Europe ; and not only did 


218 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


they restore me my horse, whilk your Excellency 
knows to be of value, but I could not prevail on 
them to accept one stiver, doit, or maravedi, for the 
trouble and expenses of my sick bed. They ac- 
tually refused my coined money when freely offered, 
— a tale seldom to be told in a Christian land.” 

“ I admit,” said Montrose, after a moment’s re- 
flection, “ that their conduct towards you is good 
evidence of their fidelity ; but how to secure against 
the breaking out of this feud?” He paused, 
and then suddenly added, “ I had forgot I have 
supped, while you, Major, have been travelling by 
moonlight.” 

He called to his attendants to fetch a stoup of 
wine and some refreshments. Major Dalgetty, who 
had the appetite of a convalescent returned from 
Highland quarters, needed not any pressing to par- 
take of what was set before him, but proceeded to 
dispatch his food with such alacrity, that the Mar- 
quis, filling a cup of wine, and drinking to his health, 
could not help remarking, that coarse as the pro- 
visions of his camp were, he was afraid Major Dal- 
getty had fared much worse during his excursion 
into Argyleshire. 

“Your Excellency may take your corporal oath 
upon that,” said the worthy Major, speaking with 
his mouth full; “for Argyle’s bread and water are 
yet stale and mouldy in my recollection, and though 
they did their best, yet the viands that the Children 
of the Mist procured for me, poor helpless creatures 
as they were, were so unrefreshful to my body, that 
when enclosed in my armour, whilk I was fain to 
leave behind me for expedition’s sake, I rattled 
therein like the shrivelled kernel in a nut that hath 
been kept on to a second Hallowe’en.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


219 


“You must take the due means to repair these 
losses, Major Dalgetty.” 

“ In troth,” answered the soldier, “ I shall hardly 
be able to compass that, unless my arrears are to 
be exchanged for present pay ; for I protest to your 
Excellency, that the three stone weight which I 
have lost were simply raised upon the regular ac- 
countings of the States of Holland.” 

“ In that case,” said the Marquis, “ you are only 
reduced to good marching order. As for the pay, 
let us once have victory — victory, Major, and your 
wishes, and all our wishes, shall be amply fulfilled. 
Meantime, help yourself to another cup of wine.” 

“To your Excellency’s health,” said the Major, 
filling a cup to the brim, to show the zeal with 
which he drank the toast, “ and victory over all our 
enemies, and particularly over Argyle ! I hope to 
twitch another handful from his beard myself — I 
have had one pluck at it already.” 

“Very true,” answered Montrose; “but to re- 
turn to these men of the Mist. You understand, 
Dalgetty, that their presence here, and the purpose 
for which we employ them, is a secret between you 
and me?” 

Delighted, as Montrose had anticipated, with this 
mark of his General’s confidence, the Major laid his 
hand upon his nose, and nodded intelligence. 

“How many may there be of Ranald’s follow- 
ers ? ” continued the Marquis. 

“They are reduced, so far as I know, to some 
eight or ten men,” answered Major Dalgetty, “ and 
a few women and children.” 

“ Where are they now ? ” demanded Montrose. 

“ In a valley, at three miles’ distance,” answered 
the soldier, “ awaiting your Excellency’s command ; 


220 


TALES 0E MY LANDLORD. 


I judged it not fit to bring them to your leaguer 
without your Excellency’s orders.” 

“You judged very well,” said Montrose; “it 
would be proper that they remain where they are, 
or seek some more distant place of refuge. I will 
send them money, though it is a scarce article with 
me at present.” 

“ It is quite unnecessary,” said Major Dalgetty ; 
“ your Excellency has only to hint that the M‘Au- 
lays are going in that direction, and my friends of 
the Mist will instantly make volte-face, and go to 
the right about.” 

“That were scarce courteous,” said the Mar- 
quis. “ Better send them a few dollars to purchase 
them some cattle for the support of the women 
and children.” 

“ They know how to come by their cattle at a 
far cheaper rate,” said the Major; “but let it be 
as your Excellency wills.” 

“Let Ranald MacEagh,” said Montrose, “select 
one or two of his followers, men whom he can trust, 
and who are capable of keeping their own secret 
and ours ; these, with their chief for scout-master- 
general, shall serve for our guides. Let them be 
at my tent to-morrow at daybreak, and see, if pos- 
sible, that they neither guess my purpose, nor hold 
any communication with each other in private. — 
This old man, has he any children?” 

“They have been killed or hanged,” answered 
the Major, “ to the number of a round dozen, as I 
believe — but he hath left one grand-child, a smart 
and hopeful youth, whom I have noted to be never 
without a pebble in his plaid-nook, to fling at what- 
soever might come in his way ; being a symbol, 
that, like David, who was accustomed to sling 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


221 


smooth stones taken from the brook, he may after- 
wards prove an adventurous warrior.” 

“ That boy, Major Dalgetty,” said the Marquis, 
“ I will have to attend upon my own person. I 
presume he will have sense enough to keep his 
name secret?” 

“ Your Excellency need not fear that,” answered 
Dalgetty; “these Highland imps, from the mo- 
ment they chip the shell ” 

“ Well,” interrupted Montrose, “ that boy shall be 
pledge for the fidelity of his parent, and if he prove 
faithful, the child’s preferment shall be his reward. 
— And now, Major Dalgetty, I will license your 
departure for the night ; to-morrow you will in- 
troduce this MacEagh, under any name or char- 
acter he may please to assume. I presume his 
profession has rendered him sufficiently expert in 
all sort of disguises ; or we may admit John of Moi- 
dart into our schemes, who has sense, practicabil- 
ity, and intelligence, and will probably allow this 
man for a time to be disguised as one of his fol- 
lowers. For you, Major, my groom of the cham- 
bers will be your quarter-master for this evening.” 

Major Dalgetty took his leave with a joyful heart, 
greatly elated with the reception he had met with, 
and much pleased with the personal manners of his 
new General, which, as he explained at great length 
to Ranald MacEagh, reminded him in many respects 
of the demeanour of the immortal Gustavus Adol- 
phus, the Lion of the North, and Bulwark of the 
Protestant Faith. 


CHAPTEK XVII. 


The march begins in military state, 

And nations on his eyes suspended wait ; 

Stern famine guards the solitary coast, 

And winter barricades the realms of frost. 

He comes, — nor want, nor cold, his course delay. 

Vanity of Human Wishes. 

By break of day Montrose received in his cabin old 
MacEagh, and questioned him long and particularly 
as to the means of approaching the country of Ar- 
gyle. He made a note of his answers, which he 
compared with those of two of his followers, whom 
he introduced as the most prudent and experienced. 
He found them to correspond in all respects ; but, 
still unsatisfied where precaution was so necessary, 
the Marquis compared the information he had re- 
ceived with that he was able to collect from the 
Chiefs who lay most near to the destined scene of 
invasion, and being in all respects satisfied of its 
accuracy, he resolved to proceed in full reliance 
upon it. 

In one point Montrose changed his mind. Having 
judged it unfit to take the boy Kenneth into his own 
service, lest, in case of his birth being discovered, it 
should be resented as an offence by the numerous 
clans who entertained a feudal enmity to this devoted 
family, he requested the Major to take him in at- 
tendance upon himself; and as he accompanied this 
request with a handsome douceur , under pretence of 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


223 


clothing and equipping the lad, this change was 
agreeable to all parties. 

It was about breakfast-time, when Major Dalgetty, 
being dismissed by Montrose, went in quest of his 
old acquaintances, Lord Menteith and the M'Aulays, 
to whom he longed to communicate his own adven- 
tures, as well as to learn from them the particulars 
of the campaign. It may be imagined he was re- 
ceived with great glee by men to whom the late 
uniformity of their military life had rendered any 
change of society an interesting novelty. Allan 
M'Aulay alone seemed to recoil from his former 
acquaintance, although, when challenged by his 
brother, he could render no other reason than a 
reluctance to be familiar with one who had been 
so lately in the company of Argyle, and other ene- 
mies. Major Dalgetty was a little alarmed by this 
sort of instinctive consciousness which Allan seemed 
to entertain respecting the society he had been 
lately keeping ; he was soon satisfied, however, that 
the perceptions of the seer in this particular were 
not infallible. 

As Ranald MacEagh was to be placed under Major 
Dalgetty’ s protection and superintendence, it was 
necessary he should present him to those persons 
with whom he was most likely to associate. The 
dress of the old man had, in the meantime, been 
changed from the tartan of his clan to a sort of 
clothing peculiar to the men of the distant Isles, 
resembling a waistcoat with sleeves, and a petticoat* 
all made in one piece. This dress was laced from top 
to bottom in front, and bore some resemblance to that 
called Polonaise, still worn by children in Scotland 
of the lower rank. The tartan hose and bonnet 
completed the dress, which old men of the last cen- 


224 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


tury remembered well to have seen worn by the 
distant Islesmen who came to the Earl of Mar’s 
standard in the year 1715. 

Major Dalgetty, keeping his eye on Allan as he 
spoke, introduced Ranald MacEagh under the fic- 
titious name of Ranald MacGillihuron in Benbe- 
cula, who had escaped with him out of Argyle’s 
prison. He recommended him as a person skilful 
in the arts of the harper and the senachie, and by 
no means contemptible in the quality of a second- 
sighted person or seer. While making this exposi- 
tion, Major Dalgetty stammered and hesitated in a 
way so unlike the usual glib forwardness of his 
manner, that he could not have failed to have given 
suspicion to Allan M'Aulay, had not that person’s 
whole attention been engaged in steadily perusing 
the features of the person thus introduced to him. 
This steady gaze so much embarrassed Ranald 
MacEagh, that his hand was beginning to sink 
down towards his dagger, in expectation of a hos- 
tile assault, when Allan, suddenly crossing the floor 
of the hut, extended his hand to him in the way of 
friendly greeting. They sat down side by side, and 
conversed in a low mysterious tone of voice. Men- 
teith and Angus M'Aulay were not surprised at this, 
for there prevailed among the Highlanders who pre- 
tended to the second-sight, a sort of freemasonry, 
which generally induced them, upon meeting, to 
hold communication with each other on the nature 
and extent of their visionary experiences. 

“ Does the sight come gloomy upon your spirits ? ” 
said Allan to his new acquaintance. 

“ As dark as the shadow upon the moon,” replied 
Ranald, “ when she is darkened in her mid-course 
in heaven, and prophets foretell of evil times.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


225 


“Come hither,” said Allan, “come more this 
way, I would converse with you apart; for men 
say that in your distant islands the sight is poured 
forth with more clearness and power than upon us, 
who dwell near the Sassenach.” 

While they were plunged into their mystic con- 
ference, the two English cavaliers entered the cabin 
in the highest possible spirits, and announced to 
Angus M'Aulay that orders had been issued that all 
should hold themselves in readiness for an imme- 
diate march to the westward. Having delivered 
themselves of their news with much glee, they 
paid their compliments to their old acquaintance 
Major Dalgetty, whom they instantly recognised, 
and enquired after the health of his charger, 
Gustavus. 

“ I humbly thank you, gentlemen,” answered the 
soldier, “ Gustavus is well, though, like his master, 
somewhat barer on the ribs than when you offered 
to relieve me of him at Darnlinvarach ; and let me 
assure you, that before you have made one or two 
of those marches which you seem to contemplate 
with so much satisfaction in prospect, you will leave 
my good knights, some of your English beef, and 
probably an English horse or two, behind you.” 

Both exclaimed that they cared very little what 
they found or what they left, provided the &cene 
changed from dogging up and down Angus and 
Aberdeenshire, in pursuit of an enemy who would 
neither fight nor run away. 

“ If such be the case,” said Angus M'Aulay, “ I 
must give orders to my followers, and make provi- 
sion too for the safe conveyance of Annot Lyle; 
for an advance into M‘Callum More’s country will 
be a farther and fouler road than these pinks of 

15 


226 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Cumbrian knighthood are aware of.” So saying, 
he left the cabin. 

“ Annot Lyle ! ” repeated Dalgetty, “ is she fol- 
lowing the campaign ? ” 

“ Surely,” replied Sir Giles Musgrave, his eye 
glancing slightly from Lord Menteith to Allan 
M'Aulay ; “ we could neither march nor fight, ad- 
vance nor retreat, without the influence of the Prin- 
cess of Harps.” 

“The Princess of Broadswords and Targets, I 
say,” answered his companion ; “ for the Lady of 
Montrose herself could not be more courteously 
waited upon; she has four Highland maidens, 
and as many bare-legged gillies, to wait upon her 
orders.” 

“ And what would you have, gentlemen ? ” said 
Allan, turning suddenly from the Highlander with 
whom he was in conversation; “would you your- 
selves have left an innocent female, the companion 
of your infancy, to die by violence, or perish by 
famine ? There is not, by this time, a roof upon 
the habitation of my fathers — our crops have been 
destroyed, and our cattle have been driven — and 
you, gentlemen, have to bless God, that, coming from 
a milder and more civilized country, you expose 
only your own lives in this remorseless war, with- 
out apprehension that your enemies will visit with 
their vengeance the defenceless pledges you may 
have left behind you.” 

The Englishmen cordially agreed that they had 
the superiority in this respect; and the company, 
now dispersing, went each to his several charge or 
occupation. 

Allan lingered a moment behind, still question- 
ing the reluctant Ranald MacEagh upon a point in 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


22 7 


his supposed visions, by which he was greatly per- 
plexed. “Repeatedly,” he said, “have I had the 
sight of a Gael, who seemed to plunge his weapon 
into the body of Menteith, — of that young noble- 
man in the scarlet laced cloak, who has just now left 
the bothy. But by no effort, though I have gazed 
till my eyes were almost fixed in the sockets, can I 
discover the face of this Highlander, or even con- 
jecture who he may be, although his person and 
air seem familar to me.” 1 

“ Have you reversed your own plaid,” said Ran- 
ald, “according to the rule of the experienced 
Seers in such case ? ” 

“ I have,” answered Allan, speaking low, and 
shuddering as if with internal agony. 

“ And in what guise did the phantom then ap- 
pear to you ? ” said Ranald. 

“With his plaid also reversed,” answered Allan, 
in the same low and convulsed tone. 

“Then be assured,” said Ranald, “that your 
own hand, and none other, will do the deed of 
which you have witnessed the sjiadow.” 

“ So has my anxious soul a hundred times sur- 
mised,” replied Allan. “ But it is impossible ! 
Were I to read the record in the eternal book of 
fate, I would declare it impossible — we are bound 
by the ties of blood, and by a hundred ties more 
intimate — we have stood side by side in battle, and 
our swords have reeked with the blood of the same 
enemies — it is impossible I should harm him ! ” 

“That you will do so,” answered Ranald, “is 
certain, though the cause be hid in the darkness of 
futurity. You say,” he continued, suppressing his 
own emotions with difficulty, “ that side by side you 

1 Note II. — Wraiths. 


228 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


have pursued your prey like bloodhounds — have 
you never seen bloodhounds turn their fangs against 
each other, and fight over the body of a throttled 
deer?” 

“ It is false ! ” said M'Aulay, starting up, “ these 
are not the forebodings of fate, but the temptation 
of some evil spirit from the bottomless pit ! ” So 
saying, he strode out 'of the cabin. 

“ Thou hast it ! ” said the Son of the Mist, look- 
ing after him with an air of exultation ; “ the 
barbed arrow is in thy side ! Spirits of the 
slaughtered, rejoice ! soon shall your murderers’ 
swords be dyed in each other’s blood.” 

On the succeeding morning all was prepared, 
and Montrose advanced by rapid marches up the 
river Tay, and poured his desultory forces into the 
romantic vale around the lake of the same name, 
which lies at the head of that river. The inhabi- 
tants were Campbells, not indeed the vassals of 
Argyle, but of the allied and kindred house of 
Glenorchy, which now bears the name of Breadal- 
bane. Being taken by surprise, they were totally 
unprepared for resistance, and were compelled to be 
passive witnesses of the ravages which took place 
among their flocks and herds. Advancing in this 
manner to the vale of Loch Dochart, and laying 
waste the country around him, Montrose reached 
the most difficult point of his enterprise. 

To a modern army, even with the assistance of 
the good military road which now leads up by 
Teinedrum to the head of Loch Awe, the passage 
of these extensive wilds would seem a task of some 
difficulty. But at this period, and for long after- 
wards, there was no road or path whatsoever ; and 
to add to the difficulty., the mountains were already 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


229 


covered with snow. It was a sublime scene to look 
up to them, piled in great masses, one upon another, 
the front rank of dazzling whiteness, while those 
which arose behind them caught a rosy tint from 
the setting of a clear wintry sun. Ben Cruachan, 
superior in magnitude, and seeming the very citadel 
of the Genius of the Region, rose high above the 
others, showing his glimmering and scathed peak to 
the distance of many miles. 

The followers of Montrose were men not to be 
daunted by the sublime, yet terrible prospect be- 
fore them. Many of them were of that ancient 
race of Highlanders, who not only willingly made 
their couch in the snow, but considered it as 
effeminate luxury to use a snowball for a pillow. 
Plunder and revenge lay beyond the frozen moun- 
tains which they beheld, and they did not permit 
themselves to be daunted by the difficulty of 
traversing them. Montrose did not allow their 
spirits time to subside. He ordered the pipes to 
play in the van the ancient pibroch entitled, 
“ Hoggil nam bo ” &c. (that is, We come through 
snow-drift to drive the prey ;) the shrilling sounds 
of which had often struck the vales of the Lennox 
with terror . 1 The troops advanced with the nimble 
alacrity of mountaineers, and were soon involved in 
the dangerous pass, through which Ranald acted 
as their guide, going before them with a select 
party, to track out the way. 

The power of man at no time appears more con- 
temptible than when it is placed in contrast with 
scenes of natural terror and dignity. The victor- 

1 It is the family-march of the M‘Farlanes, a warlike and 
predatory clan, who inhabited the western banks of Loch Lo- 
mond. See Note on Waverley, Vol. II. p. 369. 


230 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


ious army of Montrose, whose exploits had struck 
terror into all Scotland, when ascending up this 
terrific pass, seemed a contemptible handful of 
stragglers, in the act of being devoured by the jaws 
of the mountain, which appeared ready to close upon 
them. Even Montrose half repented the boldness 
of his attempt, as he looked down from the summit 
of the first eminence which he attained, upon the 
scattered condition of his small army. The diffi- 
culty of getting forward was so great, that consider- 
able gaps began to occur in the line of march, and 
the distance between the van, centre, and rear, was 
each moment increased in a degree equally incom- 
modious and dangerous. It was with great appre- 
hension that Montrose looked upon every point of 
advantage which the hill afforded, in dread it might 
be found occupied by an enemy prepared for 
defence; and he often afterwards was heard to 
express his conviction, that had the passes of Strath - 
Fillan been defended by two hundred resolute men, 
not only would his progress have been effectually 
stopped, but his army must have been in danger of 
being totally cut off. Security, however, the bane 
of many a strong country, and many a fortress, 
betrayed, on this occasion, the district of Argyle to 
his enemies. The invaders had only to contend 
with the natural difficulties of the path, and with the 
snow, which, fortunately, had not fallen in any 
great quantity. The army no sooner reached the 
summit of the ridge of hills dividing Argyleshire 
from the district of Breadalbane, than they rushed 
down upon the devoted vales beneath them with a 
fury sufficiently expressive of the motives which had 
dictated a movement so difficult and hazardous. 

Montrose divided his army into three bodies, in 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


231 


order to produce a wider and more extensive ter- 
ror, one of which was commanded by the Captain 
of Clan Ranald, one intrusted to the leading of 
Colkitto, and the third remained under his own 
direction. He was thus enabled to penetrate the 
country of Argyle at three different points. Resist- 
ance there was none. The flight of the shepherds 
from the hills had first announced in the peopled 
districts this formidable irruption, and wherever the 
clansmen were summoned out, they were killed, dis- 
armed, and dispersed, by an enemy who had anti- 
cipated their motions. Major Dalgetty, who had 
been sent forward against Inverary with the few 
horse of the army that were fit for service, man- 
aged his matters so well, that he had very nearly 
surprised Argyle, as he expressed it, inter pocula ; 
and it was only a rapid flight by water which 
saved that chief from death or captivity. But the 
punishment which Argyle himself escaped fell 
heavily upon his country and clan, and the rav- 
ages committed by Montrose on that devoted 
land, although too consistent with the genius of 
the country and times, have been repeatedly 
and justly quoted as a blot on his actions and 
character. 

Argyle in the meantime had fled to Edinburgh, to 
lay his complaints before the Convention of Estates. 
To meet the exigence of the moment, a consider- 
able army was raised under General Baillie, a Pres- 
byterian officer of skill and fidelity, with whom was 
joined in command the celebrated Sir John Urrie, 
a soldier of fortune like Dalgetty, who had already 
changed sides twice during the Civil War, and was 
destined to turn his coat a third time before it was 
ended. Argyle also, burning with indignation, pro- 


232 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


ceeded to levy his own numerous forces, in order 
to avenge himself of his feudal enemy. He estab- 
lished his head-quarters at Dunbarton, where he 
was soon joined by a considerable force, consisting 
chiefly of his own clansmen and dependents. Being 
there joined by Baillie and Urrie, with a very con- 
siderable army of regular forces, he prepared to 
march into Argyleshire, and chastise the invader 
of his paternal territories. 

But Montrose, while these two formidable ar- 
mies were forming a junction, had been recalled 
from that ravaged country by the approach of a 
third, collected in the north under the Earl of Sea- 
forth, who, after some hesitation, having embraced 
the side of the Covenanters, had now, with the as- 
sistance of the veteran garrison of Inverness, formed 
a considerable army, with which he threatened 
Montrose from Inverness-shire. Enclosed in a 
wasted and unfriendly country, and menaced on 
each side by advancing enemies of superior force, it 
might have been supposed that Montrose’s destruc- 
tion was certain. But these were precisely the cir- 
cumstances under which the active and enterprising 
genius of the Great Marquis was calculated to ex- 
cite the wonder and admiration of his friends, the 
astonishment and terror of his enemies. As if by 
magic, he collected his scattered forces from the 
wasteful occupation in which they had been en- 
gaged ; and scarce were they again united, ere 
Argyle and his associate generals were informed, that 
the royalists, having suddenly disappeared from 
Argyleshire, had retreated northwards among the 
dusky and impenetrable mountains of Lochaber. 

The sagacity of the generals opposed to Mon- 
trose, immediately conjectured, that it was the pur- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


233 


pose of their active antagonist to fight with, and, if 
possible, to destroy Seaforth, ere they could come 
to his assistance. This occasioned a corresponding 
change in their operations. Leaving this chieftain 
to make the best defence he could, Urrie and Bail- 
lie again separated their forces from those of Ar- 
gyle ; and, having chiefly horse and Lowland troops 
under their command, they kept the southern side 
of the Grampian ridge, moving along eastward into 
the county of Angus, resolving from thence to 
proceed into Aberdeenshire, in order to intercept 
Montrose, if he should attempt to escape in that 
direction. 

Argyle, with his own levies and other troops, 
undertook to follow Montrose’s march ; so that, in 
case he should come to action either with Seaforth, 
or with Baillie and Urrie, he might be placed be- 
tween two fires by this third army, which, at a se- 
cure distance, was to hang upon his rear. 

For this purpose, Argyle once more moved to- 
wards Inverary, having an opportunity, at every 
step, to deplore the severities which the hostile 
clans had exercised on his dependents and coun- 
try. Whatever noble qualities the Highlanders 
possessed, and they had many, clemency in treating 
a hostile country was not of the number ; but even 
the ravages of hostile troops combined to swell the 
number of Argyle’s followers. It is still a High- 
land proverb, He whose house is burnt must be- 
come a soldier ; and hundreds of the inhabitants of 
these unfortunate valleys had now no means of 
maintenance, save by exercising upon others the 
severities they had themselves sustained, and no 
future prospect of happiness, excepting in the grat- 
ification of revenge. His bands were, therefore, 


234 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


augmented by the very circumstances which had 
desolated his country, and Argyle soon found him- 
self at the head of three thousand determined men, 
distinguished for activity and courage, and com- 
manded by gentlemen of his own name, who yielded 
to none in those qualities. Under himself, he con- 
ferred the principal command upon Sir Duncan 
Campbell of Ardenvohr, and another Sir Duncan 
Campbell of Auchenbreck , 1 an experienced and 
veteran soldier, whom he had recalled from the 
wars of Ireland for this purpose. The cold spirit 
of Argyle himself, however, clogged the military 
councils of his more intrepid assistants ; and it was 
resolved, notwithstanding their increased force, to 
observe the same plan of operations, and to fol- 
low Montrose cautiously, in whatever direction he 
should march, avoiding an engagement until an 
opportunity should occur of falling upon his rear, 
while he should be engaged with another enemy in 
front. 


1 This last character is historical. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


Piobracht au Donuil-dhu, 

Piobrachet au Donuil, 

Piobrachet agus S’breittach 
Feacht an Innerlochy. 

The war-tune of Donald the Black, 

The war-tune of Black Donald, 

The pipes and the banner 

Are up in the rendezvous of Inverlochy. 


The military road connecting the chain of forts, 
as it is called, and running in the general line of 
the present Caledonian canal, has now completely 
opened the great glen, or chasm, extending almost 
across the whole island, once doubtless filled by the 
sea, and still affording basins for that long line of 
lakes, by means of which modern art has united 
the German and Atlantic oceans. The paths or 
tracks by which the natives traversed this extensive 
valley, were, in 1645-6, in the same situation as 
when they awaked the strain of an Irish engineer 
officer, who had been employed in converting them 
into practicable military roads, and whose eulogium 
begins, and, for aught I know, ends, as follows : 

“ Had you seen but these roads before they were made, 

You would have held up your hands and bless’d General 
Wade.” 

But, bad as the ordinary paths were, Montrose 
avoided them, and led his army, like a herd of wild 


236 TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 

deer, from mountain to mountain, and from forest 
to forest, where his enemies could learn nothing 
of his motions, while he acquired the most perfect 
knowledge respecting theirs from the friendly clans 
of Cameron and McDonnell, whose mountainous 
districts he now traversed. Strict orders had been 
given that Argyle’s advance should be watched, 
and that all intelligence respecting his motions 
should be communicated instantly to the General 
himself. 

It was a moonlight night, and Montrose, worn 
out by the fatigues of the day, was laid down to 
sleep in a miserable shieling. He had only slum- 
bered two hours, when some one touched his shoul- 
der. He looked up, and, by the stately form and 
deep voice, easily recognised the Chief of the 
Camerons. 

“ I have news for you,” said that leader, “ which 
is worth while to arise and listen to.” 

“ MTlduv 1 can bring no other,” said Montrose, 
addressing the Chief by his patronymic title — “ are 
they good or bad ? ” 

“As you may take them,” said the Chieftain. 

“ Are they certain ? ” demanded Montrose. 

“ Yes,” answered MTlduy, “ or another messenger 
should have brought them. Know that, tired with 
the task imposed upon me of accompanying that 
unhappy Dalgetty and his handful of horse, who 
detained me for hours on the march at the pace 
of a crippled badger, I made a stretch of four miles 
with six of my people in the direction of Inver- 
lochy, and there met with Ian of Glenroy, who 
had been out for intelligence. Argyle is moving 
upon Inverlochy with three thousand chosen men, 

1 Mhich-Connel Dim, the descendant of Black Donald. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 




237 


commanded by the flower of the sons of Diarmid. 
— These are my news — they are certain — it is for 
you to construe their purport.” 

“ Their purport must be good,” answered Mon- 
trose, readily and cheerfully ; “ the voice of MT1- 
duy is ever pleasant in the ears of Montrose, and 
most pleasant when it speaks of some brave enter- 
prise at hand — What are our musters ? ” 

He then called for light, and easily ascertained 
that a great part of his followers having, as usual, 
dispersed to secure their booty, he had not with 
him above twelve or fourteen hundred men. 

“ Not much above a third,” said Montrose, paus- 
ing, “of Argyle’s force, and Highlanders opposed 
to Highlanders. — With the blessing of God upon 
the royal cause, I would not hesitate were the odds 
but one to two.” 

“Then do not hesitate,” said Cameron; “for 
when your trumpets shall sound to attack M‘Cal- 
lum More, not a man of these glens will remain 
deaf to the summons. Glengarry — Keppoch — I 
myself — would destroy, with fire and sword, the 
wretch who should remain behind under any pre- 
tence whatsoever. To-morrow, or the next day, 
shall be a day of battle to all who bear the name of 
M'Donnell or Cameron, whatever be the event.” 

“ It is gallantly said, my noble friend,” said Mon- 
trose, grasping his hand, “ and I were worse than 
a coward did I not do justice to such followers, by 
entertaining the most indubitable hopes of success. 
We will turn back on this M‘Callum More, who 
follows us like a raven to devour the relics of our 
army, should we meet braver men who may be able 
to break its strength ! Let the Chiefs and leaders 
be called together as quickly as possible ; and you, 


238 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


who have brought us the first news of this joyful 
event, — for such it shall be, — you, MTlduy, shall 
bring it to a joyful issue, by guiding us the best and 
nearest road against our enemy.” 

“ That will I willingly do,” said MTlduy ; “ if I 
have shown you paths by which to retreat through 
these dusky wilds, with far more readiness will I 
teach you how to advance against your foe.” 

A general bustle now prevailed, and the leaders 
were everywhere startled from the rude couches on 
which they had sought temporary repose. 

“ I never thought,” said Major Dalgetty, when 
summoned up from a handful of rugged heather 
roots, “ to have parted from a bed as hard as a sta- 
ble-broom with such bad will ; but, indubitably, 
having but one man of military experience in his 
army, his Excellency the Marquis may be vindi- 
cated in putting him upon hard duty.” 

So saying, he repaired to the council, where, not- 
withstanding his pedantry, Montrose seemed al- 
ways to listen to him with considerable attention ; 
partly because the Major really possessed military 
knowledge and experience, and often made sugges- 
tions which were found of advantage, and partly 
because it relieved the General from the necessity 
of deferring entirely to the opinion of the High- 
land Chiefs, and gave him additional ground for 
disputing it when it was not agreeable to his own. 
On the present occasion, Dalgetty joyfully acqui- 
esced in the proposal of marching back and con- 
fronting Argyle, which he compared to the valiant 
resolution of the great Gustavus, who moved 
against the Duke of Bavaria, and enriched his 
troops by the plunder of that fertile country, 
although menaced from the northward by the 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


239 


large army which Wallenstein had assembled in 
Bohemia. 

The Chiefs of Glengarry, Keppoch, and Lochiel, 
whose clans, equal in courage and military fame to 
any in the Highlands, lay within the neighbourhood 
of the scene of action, dispatched the fiery cross 
through their vassals, to summon every one who 
could bear arms to meet the King’s lieutenant, and 
to join the standards of their respective Chiefs as 
they marched towards Inverlochy. As the order 
was emphatically given, it was speedily and will- 
ingly obeyed. Their natural love of war, their zeal 
for the royal cause, — for they viewed the King in 
the light of a chief whom his clansmen had deserted, 
— as well as their implicit obedience to their 
own patriarch, drew in to Montrose’s army not only 
all in the neighbourhood who were able to bear 
arms, but some who, in age at least, might have 
been esteemed past the use of them. During the 
next day’s march, which, being directed straight 
through the mountains of Lochaber, was unsuspected 
by the enemy, his forces were augmented by 
handfuls of men issuing from each glen, and ranging 
themselves under the banners of their respective 
Chiefs. This was a circumstance highly inspiriting 
to the rest of the army, who, by the time they ap- 
proached the enemy, found their strength increased 
considerably more than one-fourth, as had been pro- 
phesied by the valiant leader of the Camerons. 

While Montrose executed this counter-march, 
Argyle had, at the head of his gallant army, 
advanced up the southern side of Loch-Eil, and 
reached the river Lochy, which combines that lake 
with Loch-Lochy. The ancient Castle of Inver- 
lochy, once, as it is said, a royal fortress, and still, 


240 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


although dismantled, a place of some strength and 
consideration, offered convenient head-quarters, and 
there was ample room for Argyle’s army to encamp 
around him in the valley, where the Lochy joins 
Loch-Eil. Several barges had attended, loaded 
with provisions, so that they were in every respect 
as well accommodated as such an army wished or 
expected to be. Argyle, in council with Auchen- 
breck and Ardenvohr, expressed his full confidence 
that Montrose was now on the brink of destruc- 
tion ; that his troops must gradually diminish as he 
moved eastward through such uncouth paths ; that 
if he went westward, he must encounter Urrie and 
Baillie; if northward, fall into the hands of Sea- 
forth ; or should he choose any halting-place, he 
would expose himself to be attacked by three ar- 
mies at once. 

“ I cannot rejoice in the prospect, my lord,” said 
Auchenbreck, “ that James G-rahame will be crushed 
with little assistance of ours. He has left a heavy 
account in Argyleshire against him, and I long to 
reckon with him drop of blood for drop of blood. 
I love not the payment of such debts by third 
hands.” 

“ You are too scrupulous,” said Argyle ; “ what 
signifies it by whose hands the blood of the Gra- 
hames is spilt? It is time that of the sons of 
Diarmid should cease to flow. — What say you, 
Ardenvohr ? ” 

“I say, my lord,” replied Sir Duncan, “that I 
think Auchenbreck will be gratified, and will him- 
self have a personal opportunity of settling accounts 
with Montrose for his depredations. Reports have 
reached our outposts that the Camerons are assem- 
bling their full strength on the skirts of Ben-Nevis ; 


















A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


241 


this must be to join the advance of Montrose, and 
not to cover his retreat.” 

“ It must be some scheme of harassing and de- 
predation,” said Argyle, “ devised by the inveterate 
malignity of MTlduy, which he terms loyalty. 
They can intend no more than an attack on our 
outposts, or some annoyance to to-morrow’s march.” 

“ I have sent out scouts,” said Sir Duncan, “ in 
every direction, to procure intelligence; and we 
must soon hear whether they really do assemble 
any force, upon what point, or with what purpose.” 

It was late ere any tidings were received; but 
when the moon had arisen, a considerable bustle in 
the camp, and a noise immediately after heard in 
the castle, announced* the arrival of important 
intelligence. Of the scouts first dispersed by Arden- 
vohr, some had returned without being able to col- 
lect any thing, save uncertain rumours concerning 
movements in the country of the Camerons. It 
seemed as if the skirts of Ben-Nevis were sending 
forth those unaccountable and portentous sounds 
with which they sometimes announce the near 
approach of a storm. Others, whose zeal carried 
them farther upon their mission, were entrapped 
and slain, or made prisoners, by the inhabitants of 
the fastnesses into which they endeavoured to pene- 
trate. At length, on the rapid advance of Mon- 
trose’s army, his advanced guard and the outposts 
of Argyle became aware of each other’s presence, 
and after exchanging a few musket-shots and ar- 
rows, fell back to their respective main bodies, to 
convey intelligence and receive orders. 

Sir Duncan Campbell, and Auchenbreck, instantly 
threw themselves on horseback, in order to visit 
the state of the outposts; and Argyle maintained 
16 


242 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


his character of commander-in-chief with reputa- 
tion, by making a respectable arrangement of his 
forces in the plain, as it was evident that they might 
now expect a night alarm, or an attack in the morn- 
ing at farthest. Montrose had kept his forces so 
cautiously within the defiles of the mountain, that 
no effort which Auchenbreck or Arden vohr thought 
it prudent to attempt, could ascertain his probable 
strength. They were aware, however, that, at the 
utmost computation, it must be inferior to their 
own, and they returned to Argyle to inform him 
of the amount of their observations ; but that noble- 
man refused to believe that Montrose could be in 
presence himself. He said, “ It was a madness, 
of which even James Grahame, in his height of pre- 
sumptuous frenzy, was incapable ; and he doubted 
not that their march was only impeded by their 
ancient enemies, Glenco, Keppoch, and Glengarry ; 
and perhaps M'Yourigh, with his MThersons, 
might have assembled a force, which he knew must 
be greatly inferior in numbers, to his own, and 
whom, therefore, he doubted not to disperse by 
force, or by terms of capitulation.” 

The spirit of Argyle’ s followers was high, breath- 
ing vengeance for the disasters which their coun- 
try had so lately undergone ; and the night passed 
in anxious hopes that the morning might dawn upon 
their vengeance. The outposts of either army 
kept a careful watch, and the soldiers of Argyle 
slept in the order of battle which they were next 
day to occupy. 

A pale dawn had scarce begun to tinge the tops 
of these immense mountains, when the leaders of 
both armies prepared for the business of the day. 
It was the second 6f February, 1645-6. The clans- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


243 


men of Argyle were arranged in two lines, not far 
from the angle between the river and the lake, and 
made an appearance equally resolute and formi- 
dable. Auchenbreck would willingly have com- 
menced the battle by an attack on the outposts of 
the enemy, but Argyle, with more cautious policy, 
preferred receiving to making the onset. Signals 
were soon heard, that they would not long wait 
for it in vain. The Campbells could distinguish, 
in the gorge of the mountains, the war-tunes of 
various clans as they advanced to the onset. That 
of the Camerons, which bears the ominous words, 
addressed to the wolves and ravens, “ Come to me, 
and I will give you flesh,” was loudly re-echoed 
from their native glens. In the language of the 
Highland bards, the war voice of Glengarry was 
not silent ; and the gathering tunes of other tribes 
could be plainly distinguished, as they successively 
came up to the extremity of the passes from which 
they were to descend into the plain. 

“ You see,” said Argyle to his kinsmen, “ it is as I 
said, we have only to deal with our neighbours ; James 
Grahame has not ventured to show us his banner.” 

At this moment there resounded from the gorge 
of the pass a lively flourish of trumpets, in that 
note with which it was the ancient Scottish fashion 
to salute the royal standard. 

“You may hear, my lord, from yonder signal,” 
said Sir Duncan Campbell, “ that he who pretends 
to be the King’s Lieutenant, must be in person 
among these men.” 

“And has probably horse with him,” said Auch- 
enbreck, “ which I could not have anticipated. But 
shall we look pale for that, my lord, when we have 
foes to fight, and wrongs to revenge ? ” 


244 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Argyle was silent, and looked upon his arm, 
which hung in a sash, owing to a fall which he 
had sustained in a preceding march. 

“It is true,” interrupted Ardenvohr, eagerly, “my 
Lord of Argyle, you are disabled from using either 
sword or pistol ; you must retire on hoard the 
galleys — your life is precious to us as a head — 
your hand cannot be useful to us as a soldier.” 

“No,” said Argyle, pride contending with irreso- 
lution, “it shall never be said that I fled before 
Montrose ; if I cannot fight, I will at least die in 
the midst of my children.” 

Several other principal Chiefs of the Campbells, 
with one voice, conjured and obtested their Chief- 
tain to leave them for that day to the leading of 
Ardenvohr and Auchenbreck, and to behold the 
conflict from a distance and in safety. — We dare 
not stigmatize Argyle with poltroonery ; for, though 
his life was marked by no action of bravery, yet he 
behaved with so much composure and dignity in 
the final and closing scene, that his conduct upon 
the present and similar occasions, should be rather 
imputed to indecision than to want of courage. 
But when the small still voice witliin a man’s own 
breast, which tells him that his life is of conse- 
quence to himself, is seconded by that of numbers 
around him, who assure him that it is of equal 
advantage to the public, history affords many ex- 
amples of men more habitually daring than Argyle, 
who have consulted self-preservation when the 
temptations to it were so powerfully increased. 

“See him on board, if you will, Sir Duncan,” 
said Auchenbreck to his kinsman ; “ it must be my 
duty to prevent this spirit from spreading farther 
among us.” 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


245 


So saying, he threw himself among the ranks, 
entreating, commanding, and conjuring the soldiers, 
to remember their ancient fame and their present 
superiority; the wrongs they had to revenge, if 
successful, and the fate they had to dread, if van- 
quished; and imparting to every bosom a portion 
of the fire which glowed in his own. Slowly, mean- 
while, and apparently with reluctance, Argyle suf- 
fered himself to be forced by his officious kinsmen 
to the verge of the lake, and was transported on 
board of a galley, from the deck of which he sur- 
veyed with more safety than credit the scene which 
ensued. 

Sir Duncan Campbell of Ardenvohr, notwith- 
standing the urgency of the occasion, stood with 
his eyes riveted on the boat which bore his Chief- 
tain from the field of battle. There were feelings 
in his bosom which could not be expressed ; for the 
character of a Chief was that of a father, and the 
heart of a clansman durst not dwell upon his fail- 
ings with critical severity as upon those of other 
men. Argyle, too, harsh and severe to others, was 
generous and liberal among his kinsmen, and the 
noble heart of Ardenvohr was wrung with bitter 
anguish, when he reflected to what interpretation 
his present conduct might subject him. 

“ It is better it should be so,” said he to himself, 

devouring his own emotion; “but of his line 

of a hundred sires, I know not one who would have 
retired while the banner of Diarmid waved in the 
wind, in the face of its most inveterate foes ! ” 

A loud shout now compelled him to turn, and to 
hasten with all dispatch to his post, which was on 
the right flank of Argyle’ s little army. 

The retreat of Argyle had not passed unobserved 


246 TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 

by his watchful enemy, who, occupying the supe- 
rior ground, could mark) every circumstance which 
passed below. The movement of three or four 
horsemen to the rear showed that those who re- 
treated were men of rank. 

“They are going,” said Dalgetty, “to put their 
horses out of danger, like prudent cavaliers. Yon- 
der goes Sir Duncan Campbell, riding a brown bay 
gelding, which I had marked for my own second 
charger.” 

“You are wrong, Major,” said Montrose, with 
a bitter smile, “they are saving their precious 
Chief. — Give the signal for assault instantly — 
send the word through the ranks. — Gentlemen, 
noble Chiefs, Glengarry, Keppoch, M‘Vourigh, upon 
them instantly ! — Ride to MTlduy, Major Dalgetty, 
and tell him to charge as he loves Lochaber — 
return and bring our handful of horse to my stand- 
ard. They shall be placed with the Irish as a 
reserve.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


As meets a rock a thousand waves, so Inisfail met Lochlin. 

Ossian. 

The trumpets and bagpipes, those clamorous har- 
bingers of blood and death, at once united in the 
signal for onset, which was replied to by the cry of 
more than two thousand warriors, and the echoes 
of the mountain glens behind them. Divided into 
three bodies, or columns, the Highland followers of 
Montrose poured from the defiles which had hith- 
erto concealed them from their enemies, and rushed 
with the utmost determination upon the Campbells, 
who waited their charge with the greatest firmness. 
Behind these charging columns marched in line the 
Irish, under Colkitto, intended to form the reserve. 
With them was the royal standard, and Montrose 
himself ; and on the flanks were about fifty horse, 
under Dalgetty, which by wonderful exertions had 
been kept in some sort fit for service. 

The right column of Royalists was led by Glen- 
garry, the left by Lochiel, and the centre by the 
Earl of Menteith, who preferred fighting on foot in 
a Highland dress to remaining with the cavalry. 

The Highlanders poured on with the proverbial 
fury of their country, firing their guns, and dis- 
charging their arrows, at a lit Je distance from the 
enemy, who received the assault with the most de- 
termined gallantry. Better provided with musketry 


248 TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 

than their enemies, stationary also, and therefore 
taking the more decisive aim, the fire of Argyle’s 
followers was more destructive than that which 
they sustained. The rpyal clans, perceiving this, 
rushed to close quarters, and succeeded on two 
points in throwing their enemies into disorder. 
With regular troops this must have achieved a vic- 
tory ; but here Highlanders were opposed to High- 
landers, and the nature of the weapons, as well as 
the agility of those who wielded them, was equal 
on both sides. 

Their strife was accordingly desperate ; and the 
clash of the swords and axes, as they encountered 
each other, or rung upon the targets, was mingled 
with the short, wild, animating shrieks with which 
Highlanders accompany the battle, the dance, or 
indeed violent exertion of any kind. Many of the 
foes opposed were personally acquainted, and sought 
to match themselves with each other from motives 
of hatred, or a more generous emulation of valour. 
Neither party would retreat an inch, while the place 
of those who fell (and they fell fast on both sides) 
was eagerly supplied by others, who thronged to 
the front of danger. A steam, like that which arises 
from a seething cauldron, rose into the thin, cold, 
frosty air, and hovered above the combatants. 

So stood the fight on the right and the centre, 
with no immediate consequence, except mutual 
wounds and death. 

On the right of the Campbells, the Knight of 
Ardenvohr obtained some advantage, through his 
military skill and by strength of numbers. He had 
moved forward obliquely the extreme flank of his 
line at the instant the Royalists were about to close, 
so that they sustained a fire at once on front and 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


249 


in flank, and, despite the utmost efforts of their 
leader, were thrown into some confusion. At this 
instant, Sir Duncan Campbell gave the word to 
charge, and thus unexpectedly made the attack at 
the very moment he seemed about to receive it. 
Such a change of circumstances is always discour- 
aging, and often fatal. But the disorder was reme- 
died by the advance of the Irish reserve, whose 
heavy and sustained fire compelled the Knight of 
Ardenvohr to forego his advantage, and content 
himself with repulsing the enemy. The Marquis 
of Montrose, in the meanwhile, availing himself of 
some scattered birch trees, as well as of the smoke 
produced by the close fire of the Irish musketry, 
which concealed the operation, called upon Dalgetty 
to follow him with the horse, and wheeling round 
so as to gain the right flank and even the rear of 
the enemy, he commanded his six trumpets to sound 
the charge. The clang of the cavalry trumpets, 
and the noise of the galloping of the horse, produced 
an effect upon Argyle’s right wing which no other 
sounds could have impressed them with. The 
mountaineers of that period had a superstitious 
dread of the war-horse, like that entertained by the 
Peruvians, and had many strange ideas respecting 
the manner in which that animal was trained to 
combat. When, therefore, they found their ranks 
unexpectedly broken, and that the objects of their 
greatest terror were suddenly in the midst of them, 
the panic, in spite of Sir Duncan’s attempts to stop 
it, became universal. Indeed, the figure of Major 
Dalgetty alone, sheathed in impenetrable armour, 
and making his horse caracole and bound, so as to 
give weight to every blow which he struck, would 
have been a novelty in itself sufficient to terrify 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


250 

those who had never seen any thing more nearly 
resembling such a cavalier, than a shelty waddling 
under a Highlander far bigger than itself. The 
repulsed Royalists returned to the charge ; the 
Irish, keeping their ranks, maintained a fire equally 
close and destructive. There was no sustaining the 
fight longer. Argyle’s followers began to break 
and fly, most towards the lake, the remainder in 
different directions. The defeat of the right wing, 
of itself decisive, was rendered irreparable by the 
death of Auchenbreck, who fell while endeavouring 
to restore order. 

The Knight of Ardenvohr, with two or three 
hundred men, all gentlemen of descent and distin- 
guished gallantry, — for the Campbells are supposed 
to have had more gentlemen in their ranks than 
any of the Highland clans, — endeavoured, with un- 
availing heroism, to cover the tumultuary retreat of 
the common file. Their resolution only proved 
fatal to themselves, as they were charged again and 
again by fresh adversaries, and forced to separate 
from each other, until at length their aim seemed 
only to be to purchase an honourable death by re- 
sisting to the very last. 

“Good quarter, Sir Duncan,” called out Major 
Dalgetty, when he discovered his late host, with 
one or two others, defending himself against several 
Highlanders ; and, to enforce his offer, he rode up to 
him with his sword uplifted. Sir Duncan’s reply 
was the discharge of a reserved pistol, which took 
effect not on the person of the rider, but on that of 
his gallant horse, which, shot through the heart, fell 
dead under him. Ranald MacEagh, who was one of 
those who had been pressing Sir Duncan hard, took 
the opportunity to cut him down with his broad- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


251 


sword, as he turned from him in the act of firing 
the pistol. 

Allan M'Aulay came up at this moment. They 
were, excepting Ranald, followers of his brother 
who were engaged on that part of the field. “Vil- 
lains ! ” he said, “ which of you has dared to do this, 
when it was my positive order that the Knight of 
Ardenvohr should be taken alive ? ” 

Half-a-dozen of busy hands, which were emulously 
employed in plundering the fallen knight, whose 
arms and accoutrements were of a magnificence be- 
fitting his quality, instantly forebore the occupation, 
and half the number of voices exculpated them- 
selves, by laying the blame on the Skyeman, as they 
called Ranald MacEagh. 

“ Dog of an Islander ! ” said Allan, forgetting, in 
his wrath, their prophetic brotherhood, “ follow the 
chase, and harm him no farther, unless you mean to 
die by my hand.” They were at this moment left 
almost alone ; for Allan’s threats had forced his own 
olan from the spot, and all around had pressed on- 
wards toward the lake, carrying before them noise, 
terror, and confusion, and leaving behind only the 
dead and dying. The moment was tempting to 
MacEagh’ s vengeful spirit. — “ That I should die by 
your hand, red as it is with the blood of my kin- 
dred,” said he, answering the threat of Allan in a 
tone as menacing as his own, “is not more likely 
than that you should fall by mine.” With that, he 
struck at M'Aulay with such unexpected readiness, 
that he had scarce time to intercept the blow with 
his target. 

“ Villain ! ” said Allan, in astonishment, “ what 
means this ? ” 

“ I am Ranald of the Mist ! ” answered the Isles- 


252 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


man, repeating the blow ; and with that word, they 
engaged in close and furious conflict. It seemed to 
be decreed, that in Allan M‘Aulay had arisen the 
avenger of his mother’s wrongs upon this wild tribe, 
as was proved by the issue of the present, as well as 
of former combats. After exchanging a few blows, 
Ranald MacEagh was prostrated by a deep wound 
on the skull ; and M‘Aulay, setting his foot on him, 
was about to pass the broadsword through his body, 
when the point of* the weapon was struck up by a 
third party, who suddenly interposed. This was no 
other than Major Dalgetty, who, stunned by the 
fall, and encumbered by the dead body of his horse, 
had now recovered his legs and his understanding. 
“ Hold up your sword,” said he to M'Aulay, “ and 
prejudice this person no farther, in respect that he is 
here in my safe-conduct, and in his Excellency’s 
service ; and in regard that no honourable cavalier 
is at liberty, by the law martial, to avenge his own 
private injuries, flagrante hello, multo majus fla- 
grante prcelio” 

“Fool ! ” said Allan, “stand aside, and dare not to 
come between the tiger and his prey ! ” 

But, far from quitting his point, Dalgetty stept 
across the fallen body of MacEagh, and gave Allan 
to understand, that if he called himself a tiger, he 
was likely, at present, to find a lion in his path. 
There required no more than the gesture and tone 
of defiance to turn the whole rage of the mili- 
tary Seer against the person who was opposing the 
course of his vengeance, and blows were instantly 
exchanged without farther ceremony. 

The strife betwixt Allan and MacEagh had been 
unnoticed by the stragglers around, for the person 
of the latter was known to few of Montrose’s follow- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


253 


ers ; but the scuffle betwixt Dalgetty and him, both 
so well known, attracted instant attention ; and for- 
tunately, among others, that of Montrose himself, 
who had come for the purpose of gathering together 
his small body of horse, and following the pursuit 
down Loch-Eil. Aware of the fatal consequences of 
dissension in his little army, he pushed his horse up 
to the spot, and seeing MacEagh on the ground, and 
Dalgetty in the attitude of protecting him against 
M'Aulay, his quick apprehension instantly caught 
the cause of quarrel, and as instantly devised means 
to stop it. “For shame,” he said, “gentlemen cav- 
aliers, brawling together in so glorious a field of 
victory ! — Are you mad ? Or are you intoxi- 
cated with the glory which you have both this day 
gained ? ” 

“ It is not my fault, so please your Excellency,” 
said Dalgetty. “ I have been known a bonus socius , 
a bon camarado, in all the services of Europe ; but 
he that touches a man under my safeguard ” 

“ And he,” said Allan, speaking at the same 
time, “who dares to bar the course of my just 
vengeance ” 

“ For shame, gentlemen ! ” again repeated Mon- 
trose ; “ I have other business for you both, — 
business of deeper importance than any private 
quarrel, which you may easily find a more fitting 
time to settle. For you, Major Dalgetty, kneel 
down ” 

“Kneel !” said Dalgetty ; “ I have not learned to 
obey that word of command, saving when it is given 
from the pulpit. In the Swedish discipline, the 
front rank do indeed kneel, but only when the regi- 
ment is drawn up six file deep.” 

“Nevertheless,” repeated Montrose, — “kneel 


254 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


down, in the name of King Charles and of his 
representative.” 

When Dalgetty reluctantly obeyed, Montrose 
struck him lightly on the neck with the flat of his 
sword, saying, — “ In reward of the gallant service 
of this day, and in the name and authority of our 
Sovereign, King Charles, I dub thee knight; be 
brave, loyal, and fortunate. And now, Sir Dugald 
Dalgetty, to your duty. Collect what horsemen you 
can, and pursue such of the enemy as are flying 
down the side of the lake. Do not disperse your 
force, nor venture too far ; but take heed to prevent 
their rallying, which very little exertion may do. 
Mount, then, Sir Dugald, and do your duty.” 

“ But what shall I mount ? ” said the new-made 
chevalier. “ Poor Gustavus sleeps in the bed of 
honour, like his immortal namesake ! and I am 
made a knight, a rider , 1 as the High Dutch have 
it, just when I have not a horse left to ride upon.” 

“That shall not be said,” answered Montrose, 
dismounting ; “ I make you a present of my own, 
which has been thought a good one ; only, I pray 
you, resume the duty you discharge so well.” 

With many acknowledgments, Sir Dugald 
mounted the steed so liberally bestowed upon 
him; and only beseeching his Excellency to re- 
member that MacEagh was under his safe-con- 
duct, immediately began to execute the orders 
assigned to him, with great zeal and alacrity. 

“And you, Allan M'Aulay,” said Montrose, ad- 
dressing the Highlander, who, leaning his sword- 
point on the ground, had regarded the ceremony 
of his antagonist’s knighthood with a sneer of sullen 

1 In German, as in Latin, the original meaning of the word 
Ritter, corresponding to Eques, is merely a horseman. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


255 


scorn, — “you, who are superior to the ordinary 
men led by the paltry motives of plunder, and 
pay, and personal distinction, — you, whose deep 
knowledge renders you so valuable a counsellor, — 
is it you whom I find striving with a man like Dal- 
getty, for the privilege of trampling the remains of 
life out of so contemptible an enemy as lies there ? 
Come, my friend, I have other work for you. This 
victory, skilfully improved, shall win Seaforth to 
our party. It is not disloyalty, but despair of the 
good cause, that has induced him to take arms 
against us. These arms, in this moment of better 
augury, he may be brought to unite with ours. I 
shall send my gallant friend, Colonel Hay, to him, 
from this very field of battle, but he must be united 
in commission with a Highland gentleman of rank, 
befitting that of Seaforth, and of talents and of in- 
fluence such as may make an impression upon him. 
You are not only in every respect the fittest for 
this most important mission, but, having no imme- 
diate command, your presence may be more easily 
spared than that of a Chief whose following is in 
the field. You know every pass and glen in the 
Highlands, as well as the manners and customs of 
every tribe. Go therefore to Hay, on the right 
wing ; he has instructions, and expects you. You 
will find him with Glenmorrison’s men ; be his 
guide, his interpreter, and his colleague.” 

Allan M'Aulay bent on the Marquis a dark and 
penetrating glance, as if to ascertain whether this 
sudden mission was not conferred for some latent 
and unexplained purpose. But Montrose, skilful 
in searching the motives of others, was an equal 
adept in concealing his own. He considered it as 
of the last consequence, in this moment of enthu- 


256 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


siasm and exalted passion, to remove Allan from 
the camp for a few days, that he might provide, as 
his honour required, for the safety of those who 
had acted as his guides, when he trusted the Seer’s 
quarrel with Dalgetty might be easily made up. 
Allan, at parting, only recommended to the Mar- 
quis the care of Sir Duncan Campbell, whom Mon- 
trose instantly directed to be conveyed to a place 
of safety. He took the same precaution for Mac- 
Eagh, committing the latter, however, to a party 
of the Irish, with directions that he should be taken 
care of, but that no Highlander, of any clan, should 
have access to him. 

The Marquis then mounted a led horse, which 
was held by one of his attendants, and rode on to 
view the scene of his victory, which was more de- 
cisive than even his ardent hopes had anticipated. 
Of Argyle’s gallant army of three thousand men, 
fully one-half fell in the battle, or in the flight. 
They had been chiefly driven back upon that part 
of the plain where the river forms an angle with 
the lake, so that there was no free opening either 
for retreat or escape. Several hundreds were forced 
into the lake and drowned. Of the survivors, .about 
one-half escaped by swimming the river, or by an 
early flight along the left bank of the lake. The 
remainder threw themselves into the old Castle of 
Inverlochy ; but being without either provisions or 
hopes of relief, they were obliged to surrender, on 
condition of being suffered to return to their homes 
in peace. Arms, ammunition, standards, and bag- 
gage, all became the prey of the conquerors. 

This was the greatest disaster that ever befell the 
race of Diarmid, as the Campbells were called in 
the Highlands ; it being generally remarked that 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


257 


they were as fortunate in the issue of their under- 
takings, as they were sagacious in planning, and 
courageous in executing them. Of the number slain, 
nearly five hundred were dunniwassels, or gentle- 
men claiming descent from known and respected 
houses. And, in the opinion of many of the clan, 
even this heavy loss was exceeded by the disgrace 
'arising from the inglorious conduct of their Chief, 
whose galley weighed anchor when the day was 
lost, and sailed down the lake with all the speed to 
which sails and oars could impel her. 


17 


CHAPTER XX. 


Faint the din of battle bray’d, 

Distant down the hollow wind ; 

War and terror fled before, 

Wounds and death remain’d behind. 

Penkose. 

Montrose’s splendid success over his powerful 
rival was not attained without some loss, though 
not amounting to the tenth of what he inflicted. 
The obstinate valour of the Campbells cost the lives 
of many brave men of the opposite party ; and more 
were wounded, the Chief of whom was the brave 
young Earl of Menteith, who had commanded the 
centre. He was but slightly touched, however, and 
made rather a graceful than a terrible appearance 
when he presented to his general the standard of 
Argyle, which he had taken from the standard- 
bearer with his own hand, and slain him in single 
combat. Montrose dearly loved his noble kinsman, 
in whom there was conspicuous a flash of the gen- 
z erous, romantic, disinterested chivalry of the old 
heroic times, entirely different from the sordid, cal- 
culating, and selfish character, which the practice 
of entertaining mercenary troops had introduced 
into most parts of Europe, and of which degeneracy 
Scotland, which furnished soldiers of fortune for the 
service of almost every nation, had been contami- 
nated with a more than usual share. Montrose, 
whose native spirit was congenial, although experi- 
ence had taught him how to avail himself of the 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


259 


motives of others, used to Menteith neither the 
language of praise nor of promise, but clasped him 
to his bosom as he exclaimed, “ My gallant kins- 
man ! ” And by this burst of heartfelt applause 
was Menteith thrilled with a warmer glow of de- 
light, than if his praises had been recorded in a 
report of the action sent directly to the throne of 
his sovereign. 

“ Nothing,” he said, “ my lord, now seems to re- 
main in which I can render any assistance ; permit 
me to look after a duty of humanity — the Knight 
of Ardenvohr, as I am told, is our prisoner, and 
severely wounded.” 

“ And well he deserves to be so,” said Sir Dugald 
Dalgetty, who came up to them at that moment 
with a prodigious addition of acquired importance, 
“ since he shot my good horse at the time that I 
was offering him honourable quarter, which, I must 
needs say, was done more like an ignorant High- 
land cateran, who has not sense enough to erect a 
sconce for the protection of his old hurley-house of 
a castle, than like a soldier of worth and quality.” 

“Are we to condole with you then,” said Lord 
Menteith, “ upon the loss of the famed Gustavus ? ” 

“Even so, my lord,” answered the soldier, with 
a deep sigh, “ Diem clausit supremum , as we said 
at the Mareschal-College of Aberdeen. Better so 
than be smothered like a cadger’s pony in some 
flow-moss, or snow-wreath, which was like to be his 
fate if this winter campaign lasted longer. But it 
has pleased his Excellency ” (making an inclination 
to Montrose) “ to supply his place by the gift of a 
noble steed, whom I have taken the freedom to 
name ‘ Loyalty's Reward ’ in memory of this cele- 
brated occasion.” 


2(5o 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ I hope,” said the Marquis, “ you’ll find Loyalty’s 
Reward, since you call him so, practised in all the 
duties of the field, — but I must just hint to you, 
that at this time, in Scotland, loyalty is more fre- 
quently rewarded with a halter than with a horse.” 

“ Ahem ! your Excellency is pleased to be face- 
tious. Loyalty’s Reward is as perfect as Gustavus 
in all his exercises,. and of a far finer figure. Marry ! 
his social qualities are less cultivated, in respect he 
has kept till now inferior company.” 

“ Not meaning his Excellency the General, I hope,” 
said Lord Menteith. “ For shame, Sir Dugald ! ” 

“ My lord,” answered the knight gravely, “ I am 
incapable to mean any thing so utterly misbecoming. 
What I asseverate is, that his Excellency, having 
the same intercourse with his horse during his exer- 
cise, that he hath with his soldiers when training 
them, may form and break either to every feat of 
war which he chooses to practise, and accordingly 
that this noble charger is admirably managed. But 
as it is the intercourse of private life that formeth 
the social character, so I do not apprehend that of 
the single soldier to be much polished by the con- 
versation of the corporal or the sergeant, or that of 
Loyalty’s Reward to have been much dulcified, or 
ameliorated, by the society of his Excellency’s 
grooms, who bestow more oaths, and kicks, and 
thumps, than kindness or caresses, upon the animals 
intrusted to their charge ; whereby many a generous 
quadruped, rendered as it were misanthropic, mani- 
fests during the rest of his life a greater desire to 
kick and bite his master, than to love and to honour 
him.” 

“ Spoken like an oracle,” said Montrose. “ Were 
there an academy for the education of horses to be 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


261 

annexed to the Mareschal-College of Aberdeen, Sir 
Dugald Dalgetty alone should fill the chair.” 

“ Because, being an ass,” said Menteith, aside to 
the General, " there would be some distant relation 
between the professor and the students.” 

“ And now, with your Excellency’s permission,” 
said the new-made Knight, “ I am going to pay my 
last visit to the remains of my old companion in 
arms.” 

“ Not with the purpose of going through the cere- 
monial of interment ? ” said the Marquis, who did 
not know how far Sir Dugald’s enthusiasm might 
lead him ; “ consider, our brave fellows themselves 
will have but a hasty burial.” 

“ Your Excellency will pardon me,” said Dalgetty ; 
“ my purpose is less romantic. I go to divide poor 
Gustavus’s legacy with the fowls of heaven, leaving 
the flesh to them, and reserving to myself his hide ; 
which, in token of affectionate remembrance, I pur- 
pose to form into a cassock and trowsers, after the 
Tartar fashion, to be worn under my armour, in re- 
spect my nether garments are at present shamefully 
the worse of the wear. — Alas ! poor Gustavus, why 
didst thou not live at least one hour more, to have 
borne the honoured weight of knighthood upon thy 
loins ! ” 

He was now turning away, when the Marquis 
called after him, — “ As you are not likely to be 
anticipated in this act of kindness, Sir Dugald, to 
your old friend and companion, I trust,” said the 
Marquis, “ you will first assist me, and our princi- 
pal friends, to discuss some of Argyle’s good cheer, 
of which we have found abundance in the Castle.” 

" Most willingly, pleas? your Excellency,” said Sir 
Dugald ; “ as meat am mass never hinder work. 


262 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


Nor, indeed, am I afraid that the wolves or eagles 
will begin an onslaught on Gustavus to-night, in re- 
gard there is so much better cheer lying all around. 
“ But,” added he, “ as I am to meet two honour- 
able knights of England, with others of the knightly 
degree in your lordship’s army, I pray it may be 
explained to them, that now, and in future, I 
claim precedence over them all, in respect of my 
rank as a Banneret, dubbed in a field of stricken 
battle.” 

“ The devil confound him ! ” said Montrose, speak- 
ing aside ; “ he has contrived to set the kiln on fire 
as fast as I put it out. — This is a point, Sir Dugald,” 
said he, gravely addressing him, “ which I shall 
reserve for his Majesty’s express consideration ; 
in my camp, all must be upon equality, like the 
Knights of the Bound Table ; and take their places 
as soldiers should, upon the principle of, — first 
come, first served.” 

“ Then I shall take care,” said Menteith, apart to 
the Marquis, “ that Don Dugald is not first in place 
to-day. — Sir Dugald,” added he, raising his voice, 
“ as you say your wardrobe is out of repair, had you 
not better go to the enemy’s baggage yonder, over 
which there is a guard placed ? I saw them take 
out an excellent buff suit, embroidered in front in 
silk and silver.” 

“ Voto a Dios ! as the Spaniard says,” exclaimed 
the Major, “ and some beggarly gilly may get it 
while I stand prating here ! ” 

The prospect of booty having at once driven out 
of his head both Gustavus and the provant, he set 
spurs to Loyalty’s Beward, and rode off through the 
field of battle. 

“ There goes the hound,” said Menteith, “ break- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


263 


ing the face, and trampling on the body, of many a 
better man than himself ; and as eager on his sordid 
spoil as a vulture that stoops upon carrion. Yet 
this man the world calls a soldier — and you, my 
lord, select him as worthy of the honours of chi- 
valry, if such they can at this day be termed. You 
have made the collar of knighthood the decoration 
of a mere bloodhound.” 

“ What could I do ? ” said Montrose. “ I had no 
half-picked bones to give him, and bribed in some 
manner he must be, — I cannot follow the chase 
alone. Besides, the dog has good qualities.” 

“If nature has given him such,” said Menteith, 
“ habit has converted them into feelings of intense 
selfishness. He may be punctilious concerning his 
reputation, and brave in the execution of his duty, 
but it is only because without these qualities he 
cannot rise in the service; — nay, his very benevo- 
lence is selfish ; he may defend his companion while 
he can keep his feet, but the instant he is down, Sir 
Dugald will be as ready to ease him of his purse, 
as he is to convert the skin of G-ustavus into a buff 
jerkin.” 

“And yet, if all this were true, cousin,” an- 
swered Montrose, “there is something convenient 
in commanding a soldier, upon whose motives and 
springs of action you can calculate to a mathemati- 
cal certainty. A fine spirit like yours, my cousin, 
alive to a thousand sensations to which this man’s 
is as impervious as his corslet, — it is for such that 
thy friend must feel, while he gives his advice.” 
Then, suddenly changing his tone, he asked Men- 
teith when he had seen Annot Lyle. 

The young Earl coloured deeply, and answered, 
“ Not since last evening, — excepting,” he added, 


264 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


with hesitation, “for one moment, about half an 
hour before the battle began.” 

“ My dear Menteith,” said Montrose, very kindly, 
“were you one of the gay cavaliers of Whitehall, 
who are, in their way, as great self-seekers as our 
friend Dalgetty, should I need to plague you with 
enquiring into such an amourette as this ? it would 
be an intrigue only to be laughed at. But this 
is the land of enchantment, where nets strong as 
steel are wrought out of ladies’ tresses, and you 
are exactly the destined knight to be so fettered. 
This poor girl is exquisitely beautiful, and has tal- 
ents formed to captivate your romantic temper. 
You cannot think of injuring her — you cannot 
think of marrying her ? ” 

“ My lord,” replied Menteith, “ you have repeat- 
edly urged this jest, for so I trust it is meant, some- 
what beyond bounds. Annot Lyle is of unknown 
birth, — a captive, — the daughter, probably, of 
some obscure outlaw ; a dependent on the hospital- 
ity of the M‘Aulays.” 

“Do not be angry, Menteith,” said the Marquis, 
interrupting him ; “ you love the classics, though 
not educated at Mareschal-College ; and you may 
remember how many gallant hearts captive beauty 
has subdued : — 

Movit Ajacem, Telamone naturn, 

Forma captivae dominum Tecmessae. 

In a word, I am seriously anxious about this — I 
should not have time, perhaps,” he added very 
gravely, “ to trouble you with my lectures on the 
subject, were your feelings, and those of Annot, 
alone interested ; but you have a dangerous rival in 
Allan MAailay ; and there is no knowing to what 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


265 


extent he may carry his resentment. It is my duty 
to tell you that the King’s service may be much 
prejudiced by dissensions betwixt you.” 

“My lord,” said Menteith, “I know what you 
mean is kind and friendly ; I hope you will be sat- 
isfied when I assure you, that Allan M'Aulay and 
I have discussed this circumstance ; and that I have 
explained to him, that as it is utterly remote from 
my character to entertain dishonourable views con- 
cerning this unprotected female ; so, on the other 
hand, the obscurity of her birth prevents my think- 
ing of her upon other terms. I will not disguise 
from your lordship, what I have not disguised from 
M‘ Aulay, — that if Annot Lyle were born a lady, 
she should share my name and rank ; as matters 
stand, it is impossible. This explanation, I trust, 
will satisfy your lordship, as it has satisfied a less 
reasonable person.” 

Montrose shrugged his shoulders. “And, like 
true champions in romance,” he said, “you have 
agreed, that you are both to worship the same mis- 
tress, as idolaters do the same image, and that nei- 
ther shall extend his pretensions farther ? ” 

“ I did not go so far, my lord,” answered Men- 
teith — “I only said in the present circumstances, 

— and there is no prospect of their being changed, 

— I could, in duty to myself and family, stand in 
no relation to Annot Lyle, but as that of friend or 
brother — But your lordship must excuse me ; I 
have,” said he, looking at his arm, round which he 
had tied his handkerchief, “ a slight hurt to attend 
to.” 

“ A wound ? ” said Montrose, anxiously ; “ let me 
see it. — Alas ! ” he said, “ I should have heard 
nothing of this, had I not ventured to tent and 


266 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


sound another more secret and more rankling one, 
Menteith, I am sorry for you — I too have known 
— But what avails it to awake sorrows which have 
long slumbered ! ” 

So saying, he shook hands with his noble kins- 
man, and walked into the castle. 

Annot Lyle, as was not unusual for females in 
the Highlands, was possessed of a slight degree of 
medical and even surgical skill. It may readily be 
believed, that the profession of surgery, or medi- 
cine, as a separate art, was unknown ; and the few 
rude rules which they observed were intrusted to 
women, or to the aged, whom constant casualties 
afforded too much opportunity of acquiring expe- 
rience. The care and attention, accordingly, of 
Annot Lyle, her attendants, and others acting un- 
der her direction, had made her services extremely 
useful during this wild campaign. And most read- 
ily had these services been rendered to friend and 
foe, wherever they could be most useful. She was 
now in an apartment of the castle, anxiously super- 
intending the preparation of vulnerary herbs, to 
be applied to the wounded ; receiving reports from 
different females respecting those under their 
separate charge, and distributing what means she 
had for their relief, when Allan M'Aulay suddenly 
entered the apartment. She started, for she had 
heard that he had left the camp upon a distant mis- 
sion ; and, however accustomed she was to the 
gloom of his countenance, it seemed at present to 
have even a darker shade than usual. He stood 
before her perfectly silent, and she felt the neces- 
sity of being the first to speak. 

“I thought,” she said, with some effort, “you 
had already set out.” 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


267 


“ My companion awaits me,” said Allan ; “ I go 
instantly.” 

Yet still he stood before her, and held her by 
the arm, with a pressure which, though insufficient 
to give her pain, made her sensible of his great 
personal strength, his hand closing on her like the 
gripe of a manacle. 

“ Shall I take the harp ? ” she said, in a timid 
voice ; “is — is the shadow falling upon you ? ” 

Instead of replying, he led her to the window of 
the apartment, which commanded a view of the 
field of the slain, with all its horrors. It was thick 
spread with dead and wounded, and the spoilers 
were busy tearing the clothes from the victims of 
war and feudal ambition, with as much indifference 
as if they had not been of the same species, and 
themselves exposed, perhaps to-morrow, to the same 
fate. 

“ Does the sight please you ? ” said M'Aulay. 

“ It is hideous ! ” said Annot, covering her eyes 
with her hands ; “ how can you bid me look upon 
it?” 

“You must be inured to it,” said he, “if you 
remain with this destined host — you will soon 
have to search such a field for my brother’s corpse 
— for Menteith’s — for mine — but that will be a 
more indifferent task — You do not love me ! ” 

“ This is the first time you have taxed me with 
unkindness,” said Annot, weeping. “You are my 
brother — my preserver — my protector — and can 
I then but love you ? — But your hour of darkness 
is approaching, let me fetch my harp” 

“Remain,” said Allan, still holding her fast; 
“be my visions from heaven or hell, or from the 
middle sphere of disembodied spirits — or be they, 


268 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


as the Saxons hold, but the delusions of an over- 
heated fancy, they do not now influence me; I 
speak the language of the natural, of the visible 
world. — You love not me, Annot — you love Men- 
teith — by him you are beloved again, and Allan is 
no more to you than one of the corpses which 
encumber yonder heath.” 

It cannot be supposed that this strange speech 
conveyed any new information to her who was 
thus addressed. No woman ever lived who could 
not, in the same circumstances, have discerned long 
since the state of her lover’s mind. But by thus 
suddenly tearing off the veil, thin as it was, Allan 
prepared her to expect consequences violent in pro- 
portion to the enthusiasm of his character. She 
made an effort to repel the charge he had stated. 

“You forget,” she said, “your own worth and 
nobleness when you insult so very helpless a being, 
and one whom fate has thrown so totally into your 
power. You know who and what I am, and how 
impossible it is that Menteith or you can use lan- 
guage of affection to me, beyond that of friendship. 
You know from what unhappy race I have too 
probably derived my existence.” 

“ I will not believe it,” said Allan, impetuously ; 
“ never flowed crystal drop from a polluted spring.” 

“Yet the very doubt,” pleaded Annot, “should 
make you forbear to use this language to me.” 

“I know,” said M‘Aulay, “it places a bar be- 
tween us — but I know also that it divides you not 
so inseparably from Menteith. — Hear me, my be- 
loved Annot ! — leave this scene of terrors and dan- 
ger — go with me to Kin tail — I will place you in 
the house of the noble Lady of Seaforth — or you 
shall be removed in safety to Icolmkill, where some 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 269 

women yet devote themselves to the worship of 
God, after the custom of our ancestors.” 

“You consider not what you ask of me,” replied 
Annot; “to undertake such a journey under your 
sole guardianship, were to show me less scrupulous 
than maiden ought. I will remain here, Allan — 
here under the protection of the noble Montrose; 
and when his motions next approach the Lowlands, 
I will contrive some proper means to relieve you 
of one, who has, she knows not how, become an 
object of dislike to you.” 

Allan stood as if uncertain whether to give way 
to sympathy with her distress, or to anger at her 
resistance. 

“Annot,” he said, “you know too well how little 
your words apply to my feelings towards you — 
hut you avail yourself of your power, and you re- 
joice in my departure, as removing a spy upon your 
intercourse with Menteith. But beware both of 
you,” he added, in a stern tone; “for when was 
it ever heard that an injury was offered to 
Allan M‘Aulay, for which he exacted not tenfold 
vengeance ? ” 

So saying, he pressed her arm forcibly, pulled 
the bonnet over his brows, and strode out of the 
apartment. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


After you’re gone, 

I grew acquainted with my heart, and search’d 
What stirr’d it so. — Alas! I found it love. 

Yet far from lust, for could I but have lived 
In presence of you, I had had my end. 

Philaster. 

Annot Lyle had now to contemplate the terrible 
gulf which Allan M'Aulay’s declaration of love and 
jealousy had made to open around her. It seemed 
as if she was tottering on the very brink of destruc- 
tion, and was at once deprived of every refuge, and 
of all human assistance. She had long been con- 
scious that she loved Menteith dearer than a 
brother; indeed, how could it be otherwise, con- 
sidering their early intimacy, — the personal merit 
of the young nobleman, — his assiduous attentions, 
— and his infinite superiority in gentleness of dis- 
position, and grace of manners, over the race of 
rude warriors with whom she lived ? But her af- 
fection was of that quiet, timid, meditative charac- 
ter, which sought rather a reflected share in the 
happiness of the beloved object, than formed more 
presumptuous or daring hopes. A little Gaelic 
song, in which she expressed her feelings, has been 
translated by the ingenious and unhappy Andrew 
M‘Donald ; and we willingly transcribe the lines : — 

Wert thou, like me, in life’s low vale. 

With thee how blest, that lot I’d share; 

With thee I’d fly wherever gale 

Could waft, or bounding galley bear. 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


271 


But parted by severe decree, 

Far different must our fortunes prove ; 

May thine be joy — enough for me 
To weep and pray for him I lover 

The pangs this foolish heart must feel, 

When hope shall be for ever flown, 

No sullen murmur shall reveal, 

No selfish murmurs ever own. 

Nor will I through life’s weary years, 

Like a pale drooping mourner move, 

While I can think my secret tears 
May wound the heart of him I love. 

The furious declaration of Allan had destroyed 
the romantic plan which she had formed, of nursing 
in secret her pensive tenderness, without seeking 
any other requital. Long before this, she had 
dreaded Allan, as much as gratitude, and a sense 
that he softened towards her a temper so haughty 
and so violent, could permit her to do ; but now she 
regarded him with unalloyed terror, which a per- 
fect knowledge of his disposition, and of his preced- 
ing history, too well authorised her to entertain. 
Whatever was in other respects the nobleness of 
his disposition, he had never been known to resist 
the wilfulness of passion, — he walked in the house, 
and in the country of his fathers, like a tamed lion, 
whom no one dared to contradict, lest they should 
awaken his natural vehemence of passion. So 
many years had elapsed since he had experienced 
contradiction, or even expostulation, that probably 
nothing but the strong good sense, which, on all 
points, his mysticism excepted, formed the ground 
of his character, prevented his proving an annoy- 
ance and terror to the whole neighbourhood. But 
Annot had no time to dwell upon her fears. 


272 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


being interrupted by the entrance of Sir Dugald 
Dalgetty. 

It may well be supposed, that the scenes in 
which this person had passed his former life, had 
not much qualified him to shine in female society. 
He himself felt a sort of consciousness that the lan- 
guage of the barrack, guard-room, and parade, was 
not proper to entertain ladies. The only peaceful 
part of his life had been spent at Mareschal-College, 
Aberdeen ; and he had forgot the little he had 
learned there, except the arts of darning his own 
hose, and dispatching his commons with unusual 
celerity, both which had since been kept in good 
exercise by the necessity of frequent practice. 
Still it was from an imperfect recollection of what 
he had acquired during this pacific period, that he 
drew his sources of conversation when in company 
with women ; in other words, his language became 
pedantic when it ceased to be military. 

“Mistress Annot Lyle,” said he, upon the pres- 
ent occasion, “ I am just now like the half-pike, or 
spontoon of Achilles, one end of which could wound, 
and the other cure — a property belonging neither 
to Spanish pike, brown-bill, partizan, halberd, Loch- 
aber-axe, or indeed any other modern staff-weapon 
whatever.” 

This compliment he repeated twice ; but as An- 
not scarce heard him the first time, and did not 
comprehend him the second, he was obliged to 
explain. 

“ I mean,” he said, “ Mistress Annot Lyle, that 
having been the means of an honourable knight re- 
ceiving a severe wound in this day’s conflict, — he 
having pistolled, somewhat against the law of arms, 
my horse, which was named after the immortal King 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


273 


of Sweden, — I am desirous of procuring him such 
solacement as you, madam, can supply, you being 
like the heathen god Esculapius (meaning possibly 
Apollo,) “ skilful not only in song and in music, but 
in the more noble art of chirurgery — opiferque per 
orbem dicor.” 

“If you would have the goodness to explain,” 
said Annot, too sick at heart to be amused by Sir 
Dugald’s airs of pedantic gallantry. 

“ That, madam,” replied the Knight, “ may not 
be so easy, as I am out of the habit of construing 
— but we shall try. Dicor , supply ego — I am 
called. — Opifer ? opifer ? — I remember signifer 
and furcifer — but I believe opifer stands in this 
place for M. D., that is, Doctor of Physic.” 

“ This is a busy day with us all,” said Annot ; 
“ will you say at once what you want with me ? ” 
“Merely,” replied Sir Dugald, “that you will 
visit my brother knight, and let your maiden bring 
some medicaments for his wound, which threatens 
to be what the learned call a damnum fatale.' ’ 
Annot Lyle never lingered in the cause of hu- 
manity. She informed herself hastily of the nature 
of the injury, and interesting herself for the digni- 
fied old Chief whom she had seen at Darnlinvarach, 
and whose presence had so much struck her, she 
hastened to lose the sense of her own sorrow for a 
time, in the attempt to be useful to another. 

Sir Dugald with great form ushered Annot Lyle 
to the chamber of her patient, in which, to her sur- 
prise, she found Lord Menteith. She could not 
help blushing deeply at the meeting, but, to hide 
her confusion, proceeded instantly to examine the 
wound of the Knight of Ardenvohr, and easily sat- 
isfied herself that it was beyond her skill to cure 
18 


\ 


274 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


it. As for Sir Dugald, he returned to a large out- 
house, on the floor of which, among other wounded 
men, was deposited the person of Ranald of the 
Mist. 

“ Mine old friend,” said the Knight, “ as I told 
you before, I would willingly do any thing to plea- 
sure you, in return for the wound you have received 
while under my safe-conduct. I have, therefore, 
according to your earnest request, sent Mrs. Annot 
Lyle to attend upon the wound of the Knight of 
Ardenvohr, though wherein her doing so should 
benefit you, I cannot imagine. — I think you once 
spoke of some blood relationship between them ; 
but a soldado, in command and charge like me, has 
other things to trouble his head with than High- 
land genealogies.” 

And indeed, to do the worthy Major justice, he 
never enquired after, listened to, or recollected, the 
business of other people, unless it either related to 
the art military, or was somehow or other connected 
with his own interest, in either of which cases his 
memory was very tenacious. 

“And now, my good friend of the Mist,” said 
he, “ can you tell me what has become of your 
hopeful grandson, as I have not seen him since he 
assisted me to disarm after the action, a negligence 
which deserveth the strapado ? ” 

“ He is not far from hence,” said the wounded 
outlaw — “ lift not your hand upon him, for he is 
man enough to pay a yard of leathern scourge with 
a foot of tempered steel.” 

“ A most improper vaunt,” said Sir Dugald ; 
“ but I owe you some favours, Ranald, and there- 
fore shall let it pass.” 

“ And if you think you owe me any thing,” said 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


275 


the outlaw, “ it is in your power to requite me by 
granting me a boon.” 

“ Friend Ranald,” answered Dalgetty, “ I have 
read of these boons in silly story-books, whereby 
simple knights were drawn into engagements to 
their great prejudice ; wherefore, Ranald, the more 
prudent knights of this day never promise any 
thing until they know that they may keep their 
word anent the premises, without any displeasure 
or incommodement to themselves. It may be, you 
would have me engage the female chirurgeon to 
visit your wound ; though you ought to consider, 
Ranald, that the uncleanness of the place where 
you are deposited may somewhat soil the gaiety of 
her garments, concerning the preservation of which, 
you may have observed, women are apt to be inor- 
dinately solicitous. I lost the favour of the lady of 
the Grand Pensionary of Amsterdam, by touching 
with the sole of my boot the train of her black vel- 
vet gown, which I mistook for a foot-cloth, it being 
half the room distant from her person.” 

“ It is not to bring Annot Lyle hither,” answered 
MacEagh, “ but to transport me into the room 
where she is in attendance upon the Knight of Ar- 
denvohr. Somewhat I have to say of the last 
consequence to them both.” 

“ It is something out of the order of due prece- 
dence,” said Dalgetty, “ to carry a wounded outlaw 
into the presence of a knight ; knighthood having 
been of yore, and being, in some respects, still, the 
highest military grade, independent always of com- 
missioned officers, who rank according to their pa- 
tents ; nevertheless, as your boon, as you call ft, is 
so slight, I shall not deny compliance with the 
same.” So saying, he ordered three files of men to 


276 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


transport MacEagh on their shoulders to Sir Dun- 
can Campbell’s apartment, and he himself hastened 
before to announce the cause of his being brought 
thither. But such was the activity of the soldiers 
employed, that they followed him close at the heels, 
and, entering with their ghastly burden, laid Mac- 
Eagh on the floor of the apartment. His features, 
naturally wild, were now distorted by pain ; his 
hands and scanty garments stained with his own 
blood, and those of others, which no kind hand had 
wiped away, although the wound in his side had 
been secured by a bandage. 

“ Are you,” he said, raising his head painfully 
towards the couch where lay stretched his late 
antagonist, “ he whom men call the Knight of 
Arden vohr ? ” 

“ The same,” answered Sir Duncan, — “ what 
would you with one whose hours are now num- 
bered ? ” 

“ My hours are reduced to minutes,” said the 
outlaw ; “ the more grace, if I bestow them in the 
service of one, whose hand has ever been against 
me, as mine has been raised higher against him.” 

“ Thine higher against me ! — Crushed worm ! ” 
said the Knight, looking down on his miserable 
adversary. 

“ Yes,” answered the outlaw, in a firm voice, 
“my arm hath been highest. In the deadly con- 
test betwixt us, the wounds I have dealt have been 
deepest, though thine have neither been idle nor 
unfelt. — I am Ranald MacEagh — I am Ranald of 
the Mist — the night that I gave thy castle to the 
winds in one huge blaze of fire, is now matched 
with the day in which you have fallen under the 
sword of my fathers. — Remember the injuries thou 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


277 


hast done our tribe — never were such inflicted, save 
by one , beside thee. He, they say, is fated and 
secure against our vengeance — a short time will 
show.” 

“My Lord Menteith,” said Sir Duncan, raising 
himself out of his bed, “ this is a proclaimed villain, 
at once the enemy of King and Parliament, of God 
and man — one of the outlawed banditti of the 
Mist ; alike the enemy of your house, of the 
M'Aulays, and of mine. I trust you will not suffer 
moments, which are perhaps my last, to be embit- 
tered by his barbarous triumph.” 

“He shall have the treatment he merits,” said 
Menteith ; “ let him be instantly removed.” 

Sir Dugald here interposed, and spoke of Ran- 
ald’s services as a guide, and his own pledge for 
his safety ; but the high harsh tones of the outlaw 
drowned his voice. 

“No,” said he, “be rack and gibbet the word! 
let me wither between heaven and earth, and gorge 
the hawks and eagles of Ben-Nevis; and so shall 
this haughty Knight, and this triumphant Thane, 
never learn the secret I alone can impart ; a secret 
which would make Ardenvohr’s heart leap with joy, 
were he in the death agony, and which the Earl of 
Menteith would purchase at the price of his broad 
earldom. — Come hither, Annot Lyle,” he said, rais- 
ing himself with unexpected strength ; “ fear not 
the sight of him to whom thou hast clung in in- 
fancy. Tell these proud men, who disdain thee as 
the issue of mine ancient race, that thou art no 
blood of ours, — no daughter of the race of the 
Mist, but born in halls as lordly, and cradled on 
couch as soft, as ever soothed infancy in their proud- 
est palaces.” 


278 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


“ In the name of God,” said Menteith, trembling 
with emotion, “ if you know aught of the birth of 
this lady, do thy conscience the justice to dis- 
burden it of the secret before departing from this 
world ! ” 

“ And bless my enemies with my dying breath ? ” 
said MacEagh, looking at him malignantly. — “Such 
are the maxims your priests preach — but when, or 
towards whom, do you practise them? Let me 
know first the worth of my secret ere I part with 
it — What would you give, Knight of Ardenvohr, 
to know that your superstitious fasts have been 
vain, and that there still remains a descendant of 
your house ? — I pause for an answer — without it, 
I speak not one word more.” 

“ I could,” said Sir Duncan, his voice struggling 
between the emotions of doubt, hatred, and anxiety 

— “I could — but that I know thy race are like 
the Great Enemy, liars and murderers from the 
beginning — but could it be true thou tellest me, I 
could almost forgive thee the injuries thou hast 
done me.” 

“ Hear it ! ” said Ranald ; “ he hath wagered 
deeply for a son of Diarmid — And you, gentle 
Thane — the report of the camp says, that you 
would purchase with life and lands the tidings that 
Annot Lyle was no daughter of proscription, but of 
a race noble in your estimation as your own — Well 

— It is for no love I tell you — The time has been 
that I would have exchanged this secret against 
liberty ; I am now bartering it for what is dearer 
than liberty or life. — Annot Lyle is the youngest, 
the sole surviving child of the Knight of Arden- 
vohr, who alone was saved when all in his halls 
besides was given to blood and ashes.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 279 

“ Can this man speak truth ? ” said Annot Lyle, 
scarce knowing what she said ; “ or is this some 
strange delusion ? ” 

“Maiden,” replied Ranald, “hadst thou dwelt 
longer with us, thou wouldst? have better learnt to 
know how to distinguish the accents of truth. To 
that Saxon lord, and to the Knight of Ardenvolir, 
I will yield such proofs of what I have spoken, that 
incredulity shall stand convinced. Meantime, with- 
draw — I loved thine infancy, I hate not thy youth 

— no eye hates the rose in its blossom, though it 
groweth upon a thorn, and for thee only do I some- 
thing regret what is soon to follow. But he that 
would avenge him of his foe must not reck though 
the guiltless he engaged in the ruin.” 

“ He advises well, Annot,” said Lord Menteith ; 
“ in Cod’s name retire ! if — if there be aught in 
this, your meeting with Sir Duncan must be more 
prepared for both your sakes.” 

“ I will not part from my father, if I have found 
one ! ” said Annot — “I will not part from him 
under circumstances so terrible.” 

“ And a father you shall ever find in me,” mur- 
mured Sir Duncan. 

“Then,” said Menteith, “I will have MacEagh 
removed into an adjacent apartment, and will col- 
lect the evidence of his tale myself. Sir Dugald 
Dalgetty will give me his attendance and assistance.” 

“ With pleasure, my lord,” answered Sir Dugald. 

— “I will be your confessor, or assessor — either or 
both. No one can he so fit, for I had heard the 
whole story a month ago at Inverary castle — but 
onslaughts like that of Ardenvohr confuse each 
other in my memory, which is besides occupied 
with matters of more importance.” 


280 tales of my landlord. 

Upon hearing this frank declaration, which was 
made as they left the apartment with the wounded 
man, Lord Menteith darted upon Dalgetty a look 
of extreme anger and disdain, to which the self- 
conceit of the worthy commander rendered him 
totally insensible. 


♦ 


CHAPTER XXII. 

I am as free as nature first made man, 

Ere the base laws of servitude began, 

When wild in woods the noble savage ran. 

Conquest of Granada. 

The Earl of Menteith, as he had undertaken, so 
he proceeded to investigate more closely the story 
told by Ranald of the Mist, which was corroborated 
by the examination of his two followers, who had 
assisted in the capacity of guides. These declara- 
tions he carefully compared with such circumstances 
concerning the destruction of his castle and fam- 
ily as Sir Duncan Campbell was able to supply ; 
and it may be supposed he had forgotten nothing 
relating to an event of such terrific importance. It 
was of the last consequence to prove that this was 
no invention of the outlaw’s, for the purpose of 
passing an impostor as the child and heiress of 
Ardenvohr. 

Perhaps Menteith, so much interested in believ- 
ing the tale, was not altogether the fittest person 
to be intrusted with the investigation of its truth ; 
but the examinations of the Children of the Mist 
were simple, accurate, and in all respects consistent 
with each other. A personal mark was referred 
to, which was known to have been borne by the 
infant child of Sir Duncan, and which appeared 
upon the left shoulder of Annot Lyle. It was also 
well remembered, that when the miserable relics of 


i 


282 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


the other children had been collected, those of the 
infant had nowhere been found. Other circum- 
stances of evidence, which it is unnecessary to 
quote, brought the fullest conviction not only to 
Menteith, but to the unprejudiced mind of Montrose, 
that in Annot Lyle, an humble dependant, distin- 
guished only by beauty and talent, they were in fu- 
ture to respect the heiress of Ardenvohr. 

While Menteith hastened to communicate the 
result of these enquiries to the persons most inter- 
ested, the outlaw demanded to speak with his grand- 
child, whom he usually called his son. “ He would 
be found,” he said, “in the outer apartment, in 
which he himself had been originally deposited.” 

Accordingly, the young savage, after a close 
search, was found lurking in a corner, coiled up 
among some rotten straw, and brought to his 
grandsire. 

“ Kenneth,” said the old outlaw, “ hear the last 
words of the sire of thy father. A Saxon soldier, 
and Allan of the Red-hand, left this camp within 
these few hours, to travel to the country of Caber- 
fae. Pursue them as the bloodhound pursues the 
hurt deer — swim the lake — climb the mountain — 
thread the forest — tarry not until you join them ; ” 
and then the countenance of the lad darkened as 
his grandfather spoke, and he laid his hand upon a 
knife which stuck in the thong of leather that con- 
fined his scanty plaid. “ No ! ” said the old man ; 
“ it is not by thy hand he must fall. They will ask 
the news from the camp — say to them that Annot 
Lyle of the Harp is discovered to be the daughter 
of Duncan of Ardenvohr ; that the Thane of Men- 
teith is to wed her before the priest ; and that you 
are sent to bid guests to the bridal. Tarry not 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 


283 


their answer, but vanish like the lightning when 
the black cloud swallows it. — And now depart, be- 
loved son of my best beloved ! I shall never more 
see thy face, nor hear the light sound of thy foot- 
step — yet tarry an instant and hear my last charge. 
Remember the fate of our race, and quit not the 
ancient manners of the Children of the Mist. We 
are now a straggling handful, driven from every 
vale by the sword of every clan, who rule in the 
possessions where their forefathers hewed the wood, 
and drew the water for ours. But in the thicket 
of the wilderness, and in the mist of the moun- 
tain, Kenneth, son of Eracht, keep thou unsoiled 
the freedom which I leave thee as a birth- 
right. Barter it not neither for the rich garment, 
nor for the stone-roof, nor for the covered board, 
nor for the couch of down — on the rock or in the 
valley, in abundance or in famine — in the leafy 
summer, and in the days of the iron winter — Son 
of the Mist ! be free as thy forefathers. Own no 
lord — receive no law — take no hire — give no sti- 
pend — build no hut —/enclose no pasture — sow no 
grain ; — let the deer of the mountain be thy flocks 
and herds — if these fail thee, prey upon the goods 
of our oppressors — of the Saxons, and of such Gael 
as are Saxons in their souls, valuing herds and flocks 
more than honour and freedom. Well for us that 
they do so — it affords the broader scope for our 
revenge. Remember those who have done kindness 
to our race, and pay their services with thy blood, 
should the hour require it. If a Maclan shall come 
to thee with the head of the king’s son in his hand, 
shelter him, though the avenging army of the father 
were behind him ; for in Glencoe and Ardnamur- 
chan, we have dwelt in peace in the years that have 


284 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


gone by. The sons of Diarmid — the race of Darn- 
linvarach — the riders of Menteith — my curse on 
thy head, Child of the Mist, if thou spare one of 
those names, when the time shall offer for cutting 
them off! and it will come anon, for their own 
swords shall devour each other, and those who are 
scattered shall fly to the Mist, and perish by its 
Children. Once more, begone — shake the dust from 
thy feet against the habitations of men, whether 
banded together for peace or for war. Farewell, be- 
loved ! and mayst thou die like thy forefathers, ere 
infirmity, disease, or age, shall break thy spirit — 
Begone ! — begone ! — live free — requite kindness 
— avenge the injuries of thy race ! ” 

The young savage stooped, and kissed the brow 
of his dying parent ; but accustomed from infancy 
to suppress every exterior sign of emotion, he parted 
without tear or adieu, and was soon far beyond 
the limits of Montrose’s camp. 

Sir Dugald Dalgetty, who was present during 
the latter part of this scene, was very little edified 
by the conduct of MacEagh upon the occasion. “ I 
cannot think, my friend Ranald,” said he, “ that 
you are in the best possible road for a dying man. 
Storms, onslaughts, massacres, the burning of sub- 
urbs, are indeed a soldier’s daily work, and are jus- 
tified by the necessity of the case, seeing that they 
are done in the course of duty; for burning of 
suburbs, in particular, it may be said that they are 
traitors and cut-throats to all fortified towns. Hence 
it is plain, that a soldier is a profession peculiarly 
favoured by Heaven, seeing that we may hope for 
salvation, although we daily commit actions of so 
great violence. But then, Ranald, in all services 
of Europe, it is the custom of the dying soldier not 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


285 


to vaunt him of such doings, or to recommend them 
to his fellows ; but, on the contrary, to express con- 
trition for the same, and to repeat, or have repeated 
to him, some comfortable prayer ; which, if you 
please, I will intercede with his Excellency’s chaplain 
to prefer on your account. It is otherwise no point 
of my duty to put you in mind of those things ; 
only it may be for the ease of your conscience to 
depart more like a Christian, and less like a Turk, 
than you seem to be in a fair way of doing.” 

The only answer of the dying man — (for as such 
Ranald MacEagh might now be considered) — was 
a request to be raised to such a position that 
he might obtain a view from the window of the 
Castle. The deep frost mist, which had long settled 
upon the top of the mountains, was now rolling 
down ea*ch rugged glen and gully, where the craggy 
ridges showed their black and irregular outline, 
like desert islands rising above the ocean of vapour. 
“ Spirit of the Mist ! ” said Ranald MacEagh, 
“ called by our race our father, and our preserver — 
receive into thy tabernacle of clouds, when this pang 
is over, him whom in life thou hast so often shel- 
tered.” So saying, he sunk back into the arms of 
those who upheld him, spoke no further word, but 
turned his face to the wall for a short space. 

“ I believe,” said Dalgetty, “ my friend Ranald 
will be found in his heart to be little better than a 
heathen.” And he renewed his proposal to pro- 
cure him the assistance of Dr. Wisheart, Montrose’s 
military chaplain ; “ a man,” said Sir Dugald, “ very 
clever in his exercise, and who will do execution 
on your sins in less time than I could smoke a pipe 
of tobacco.” 

“Saxon,” said the dying man, “speak to me no 


286 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


more of thy priest — I die contented. Hadst thou 
ever an enemy against whom weapons were of no 
avail — whom the ball missed, and against whom the 
arrow shivered, and whose bare skin was as impen- 
etrable to sword and dirk as thy steel garment ? 
— Heards t thou ever of such a foe ? ” 

“Very frequently, when I served in Germany,” 
replied Sir Dugald. “ There was such a fellow 
at Ingolstadt ; he was proof both against lead and 
steel. The soldiers killed him with the buts of 
their muskets.” 

“ This impassible foe,” said Ranald, without re- 
garding the Major’s interruption, “who has the 
blood dearest to me upon his hands — to this man 
I have now bequeathed agony of mind, jealousy, 
despair, and sudden death, — or a life more miser- 
able than death itself. Such shall be the lot of 
Allan of the Red-hand, when he learns that Annot 
weds Menteith; and I ask no more than the cer- 
tainty that it is so, to sweeten my own bloody end 
by his hand.” 

“If that be the case,” said the Major, “there’s 
no more to be said ; but I shall take care as few 
people see you as possible, for I cannot think your 
mode of departure can be at all creditable or ex- 
emplary to a Christian army.” So saying, he left 
the apartment, and the Son of the Mist soon after 
breathed his last. 

Menteith, in the meanwhile, leaving the new- 
found relations to their mutual feelings of mingled 
emotion, was eagerly discussing with Montrose the 
consequences of this discovery. “ I should now 
see,” said the Marquis, “ even had I not before ob- 
served it, that your interest in this discovery, my 
dear Menteith, has no small reference to your own 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


287 


happiness. You love this new-found lady, — your 
affection is returned. In point of. birth, no excep- 
tions can be made ; in every other respect, her ad- 
vantages are equal to those which you yourself 
possess — think, however, a moment. Sir Duncan is 
a fanatic — Presbyterian, at least —in arms against 
the King ; he is only with us in the quality of a 
prisoner, and we are, I fear, but at the commence- 
ment of a long civil war. Is this a time, think you, 
Menteith, for you to make proposals for his heir- 
ess ? Or what chance is there that he will now 
listen to it ? ” 

Passion, an ingenious, as well as an eloquent ad- 
vocate, supplied the young nobleman with a thou- 
sand answers to these objections. He reminded 
Montrose that the Knight of Ardenvohr was nei- 
ther a bigot in politics nor religion. He urged his 
own known and proved zeal for the royal cause, 
and hinted that its influence might be extended and 
strengthened by his wedding the heiress of Arden- 
vohr. He pleaded the dangerous state of Sir Dun- 
can’s wound, the risk which must be run by suffer- 
ing the young lady to be carried into the country 
of the Campbells, where, in case of her father’s 
death, or continued indisposition, she must neces- 
sarily be placed under the guardianship of Argyle, 
an event fatal to his (Menteith’s) hopes, unless he 
could stoop to purchase his favour by abandoning 
the King’s party. 

Montrose allowed the force of these arguments, 
and owned, although the matter was attended with 
difficulty, yet it seemed consistent with the King’s 
service that it should be concluded as speedily as 
possible. 

“ I could wish,” said he, “ that it were all settled 


288 


TALES OE MY LANDLORD. 


in one way or another, and that this fair Briseis 
were removed from our camp before the return of 
our Highland Achilles, Allan M‘Aulay. — I fear 
some fatal feud in that quarter, Menteith — and I 
believe it would be best that Sir Duncan be dis- 
missed on his parole, and that you accompany him 
and his daughter as his escort. The journey can 
be made chiefly by water, so will not greatly in- 
commode his wound — and your own, my friend, 
will be an honourable excuse for the absence of 
some time from my camp.” 

“ Never ! ” said Menteith. “ Were I to forfeit 
the very hope that has so lately dawned upon me, 
never will I leave your Excellency’s camp while 
the royal standard is displayed. I should deserve 
that this trifling scratch should gangrene and con- 
sume my sword-arm, were I capable of holding it 
as an excuse for absence at this crisis of the King’s 
affairs.” 

“ On this, then, you are determined ? ” said 
Montrose. 

“As fixed as Ben-Nevis,” said the young noble- 
man. 

“ You must, then,” said Montrose, “ lose no time 
in seeking an explanation with the Knight of 
Ardenvohr. If this prove favourable, I will talk 
myself with the elder M‘Aulay, and we will devise 
means to employ his brother at a distance from the 
army until he shall be reconciled to his present 
disappointment. Would to God some vision would 
descend upon his imagination fair enough to 
obliterate all traces of Annot Lyle ! That perhaps 
you think impossible, Menteith? — Well, each to 
his service ; you to that of Cupid, and I to that of 
Mars.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 289 

They parted, and in pursuance of the scheme 
arranged, Menteith, early on the ensuing morning, 
sought a private interview with the wounded 
Knight of Ardenvohr, and communicated to him 
his suit for the hand of his daughter. Of their 
mutual attachment Sir Duncan was aware, but he 
was not prepared for so early a declaration on the 
part of Menteith. He said, at first, that he had 
already, perhaps, indulged too much in feelings of 
personal happiness, at a time when his clan had 
sustained so great a loss and humiliation, and that 
he was unwilling, therefore, farther to consider the 
advancement of his own house at a period so 
calamitous. On the more urgent suit of the noble 
lover, he requested a few hours to deliberate and 
consult with his daughter, upon a question so 
highly important. 

The result of this interview and deliberation was 
favourable to Menteith. Sir Duncan Campbell be- 
came fully sensible that the happiness of his new- 
found daughter depended upon a union with her 
lover; and unless such were now formed, he saw 
that Argyle would throw a thousand obstacles in 
the way of a match in every respect acceptable to 
himself. Menteith’s private character was so ex- 
cellent, and such was the rank and consideration 
due to his fortune and family, that they outbal- 
anced, in Sir Duncan’s opinion, the difference in 
their political opinions. Nor could he have re- 
solved, perhaps, had his own opinion of the match 
been less favourable, to decline an opportunity of 
indulging the new-found child of his hopes. There 
was, besides, a feeling of pride which dictated his 
determination. To produce the Heiress of Arden- 
vohr to the world as one who had been educated a 

19 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


290 

poor dependant and musician in the family of Darn- 
linvarach, had something in it that was humiliating. 
To introduce her as the betrothed bride, or wedded 
wife, of the Earl of Menteith, upon an attachment 
formed during her obscurity, was a warrant to the 
world that she had at all times been worthy of the 
rank to which she was elevated. 

It was under the influence of these considerations 
that Sir Duncan Campbell announced to the lovers 
his consent that they should be married in the 
chapel of the Castle, by Montrose’s chaplain, and 
as privately as possible. But when Montrose 
should break up from Inverlochy, for which orders 
were expected in the course of a very few days, it 
was agreed that the young Countess should depart 
with her father to his castle, and remain there until 
the circumstances of the nation permitted Menteith 
to retire with honour from his present military em- 
ployment. His resolution being once taken, Sir 
Duncan Campbell would not permit the maidenly 
scruples of his daughter to delay its execution ; 
and it was therefore resolved that the bridal should 
take place the next evening, being the second after 
the battle. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


My maid — my blue-eyed maid, he bore away, 

Due to the toils of many a bloody day. 

Iliad. 

It was necessary, for many reasons, that Angus 
M‘Aulay, so long the kind protector of Annot Lyle, 
should be mgide acquainted with the change in the 
fortunes of his late protegee ; and Montrose, as he 
had undertaken, communicated to him these re- 
markable events. With the careless and cheerful 
indifference of his character, he expressed much 
more joy than wonder at Annot’s good fortune ; had 
no doubt whatever she would merit it, and as she 
had always been bred in loyal principles, would con- 
vey the whole estate of her grim fanatical father to 
some honest fellow who loved the king. “ I should 
have no objection that my brother Allan should try 
his chance,” added he, “notwithstanding that Sir 
Duncan Campbell was the only man who ever 
charged Darnlinvarach with inhospitality. Annot 
Lyle could always charm Allan out of the sullens, 
and who knows whether matrimony might not make 
him more a man of this world ? ” 

Montrose hastened to interrupt the progress of 
his castle-building, by informing him that the lady 
was already wooed and won, and, with her father’s 
approbation, was almost immediately to be wedded 
to his kinsman, the Earl of Menteith ; and that in 
testimony of the high respect due to M‘Aulay, so 


292 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


long the lady’s protector, he was now to request his 
presence at the ceremony. M‘Aulay looked very 
grave at this intimation, and drew up his person 
with the air of one who thought that he had been 
neglected. 

“ He conceived,” he said, “ that his uniform kind 
treatment of the young lady, while so many years 
under his roof, required something more upon such 
an occasion than a bare compliment of ceremony. 
He might,” he thought, “ without arrogance, have 
expected to have been consulted. He wished his 
kinsman of Menteith well, no man could wish him 
better; but he must say he thought he had been 
hasty in this matter. Allan’s sentiments towards 
the young lady had been pretty well understood, 
and he, for one, could not see why the superior pre- 
tensions which he had upon her gratitude should 
have been set aside, without at least undergoing 
some previous discussion.” 

Montrose, seeing too well where all this pointed, 
entreated MAailay to be reasonable, and to consider 
what probability there was that the Knight of 
Ardenvohr could be brought to confer the hand of 
his sole heiress upon Allan, whose undeniable excel- 
lent qualities were mingled with others, by which 
they were overclouded in a manner that made all 
tremble who approached him. 

“ My lord,” said Angus M'Aulay, “ my brother 
Allan has, as God made us all, faults as well as 
merits ; but he is the best and bravest man of your 
army, be the other who he may, and therefore ill 
deserved that his happiness should have been so 
little consulted by your Excellency — by his own 
near kinsman — and by a young person who owes 
all to him and to his family.” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


293 


Montrose in vain endeavoured to place the sub- 
ject in a different view ; this was the point in which 
Angus was determined to regard it, and he was a 
man of that calibre of understanding, who is incap- 
able of being convinced when he has once adopted a 
prejudice. Montrose now assumed a higher tone, 
and called upon Angus to take care how he nour- 
ished any sentiments which might be prejudicial to 
his Majesty’s service. He pointed out to him, that 
he was peculiarly desirous that Allan’s efforts should 
not be interrupted in the course of his present mis- 
sion; “a mission,” he said, “highly honourable for 
himself, and likely to prove most advantageous to 
the King’s cause. He expected his brother would 
hold no communication with him upon other sub- 
jects, nor stir up any cause of dissension, which 
might divert his mind from a matter of such 
importance.” 

Angus answered somewhat sulkily, that “ he was 
no make-bate, or stirrer up of quarrels ; he would 
rather be a peace-maker. His brother knew as well 
as most men how to resent his own quarrels — as 
for Allan’s mode of receiving information, it was 
generally believed he had other sources than those 
of ordinary couriers. He should not be surprised if 
they saw him sooner than they expected.” 

A promise that he would not interfere, was the 
farthest to which Montrose could bring this man, 
thoroughly good-tempered as he was on all occa- 
sions, save when his pride, interest, or prejudices, 
were interfered with. And at this point the Mar- 
quis was fain to leave the matter for the present. 

A more willing guest at the bridal ceremony, cer- 
tainly a more willing attendant at the marriage 
feast, was to be expected in Sir Dugald Dalgetty, 


294 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


whom Montrose resolved to invite, as having been 
a confident to the circumstances which preceded 
it. But even Sir Dugald hesitated, looked on the 
elbows of his doublet, and the knees of his leather 
breeches, and mumbled out a sort of reluctant 
acquiescence in the invitation, providing he should 
find it possible, after consulting with the noble 
bridegroom. Montrose was somewhat surprised, but 
scorning to testify displeasure, he left Sir Dugald to 
pursue his own course. 

This carried him instantly to the chamber of the 
bridegroom, who, amidst the scanty wardrobe which 
his camp-equipage afforded, was seeking for such 
articles as might appear to the best advantage upon 
the approaching occasion. Sir Dugald entered, and 
paid his compliments, with a very grave face, upon 
his approaching happiness, which, he said, “ he was 
very sorry he was prevented from witnessing.” 

“ In plain truth,” said he, “ I should but disgrace 
the ceremony, seeing that I lack a bridal garment. 
Rents, and open seams, and tatters at elbows in the 
apparel of the assistants, might presage a similar 
solution of continuity in your matrimonial happi- 
ness — and to say truth, my lord, you yourself must 
partly have the blame of this disappointment, in 
respect you sent me upon a fool’s errand to get a 
buff-coat out of the booty taken by the Camerons, 
whereas you might as well have sent me to fetch a 
pound of fresh butter out of a black dog’s throat. I 
had no answer, my lord, but brandished dirks and 
broadswords, and a sort of growling and jabbering 
in what they call their language. For my part, I 
believe these Highlanders to be no better than ab- 
solute pagans, and have been much scandalized by 
the manner in which my acquaintance, Ranald Mac- 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 295 

Eagh, was pleased to beat his final march, a little 
while since.” 

In Menteith’s state of mind, disposed to be pleased 
with every thing, and every body, the grave com- 
plaint of Sir Dugald furnished additional amuse- 
ment. He requested his acceptance of a very hand- 
some buff-dress which was lying oh the floor. “ I 
had intended it,” he said, “for my own bridal- 
garment, as being the least formidable of my warlike 
equipments, and I have here no peaceful dress.” 

Sir Dugald made the necessary apologies — would 
not by any means deprive — and so forth, until it 
happily occurred to him that it was much more 
according to military rule that the Earl should be 
married in his back and breast-pieces, which dress 
he had seen the bridegroom wear at the union of 
Prince Leo of Wittlesbach with the youngest daugh- 
ter of bid George Frederick, of Saxony, under the 
auspices of the gallant Gustavus Adolphus, the Lion 
of the North, and so forth. The good-natured young 
Earl laughed, and acquiesced ; and thus having se- 
cured at least one merry face at his bridal, he put 
on a light and ornamented cuirass, concealed partly 
by a velvet coat, and partly by a broad blue silk 
scarf, which he wore over his shoulder, agreeably 
to his rank, and the fashion of the times. 

Every thing was now arranged ; and it had been 
settled, that, according to the custom of the country, 
the bride and bridegroom should not again meet 
until they were before the altar. The hour had 
already struck that summoned the bridegroom 
thither, and he only waited in a small anteroom 
adjacent to the chapel, for the Marquis, who con- 
descended to act as bride’s-man upon the occasion. 
Business relating to the army having suddenly re- 


296 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


quired the Marquis’s instant attention, Menteith 
waited his return, it may be supposed, in some im- 
patience ; and when he heard the door of the apart- 
ment open, he said, laughing, “ You are late upon 
parade.” 

“You will find I am too early,” said Allan 
M'Aulay, who burst into the apartment. “Draw, 
Menteith, and defend yourself like a man, or die 
like a dog ! ” 

“ You are mad, Allan ! ” answered Menteith, 
astonished alike at his sudden appearance, and at 
the unutterable fury of his demeanour. His cheeks 
were livid — his eyes started from their sockets — 
his lips were covered with foam, and his gestures 
were those of a demoniac. 

“ You lie, traitor ! ” was his frantic reply — “ you 
lie in that, as you lie in all you have said to me. 
Your life is a lie ! ” 

“ Did I not speak my thoughts when I called you 
mad,” said Menteith, indignantly, “ your own life 
were a brief one. In what do you charge me with 
deceiving you ? ” 

“You told me,” answered M‘Aulay, “that you 
would not marry Annot Lyle ! — False traitor ! — 
she now waits you at the altar.” 

“ It is you who speak false,” retorted Menteith. 
“ I told you the obscurity of her birth was the only 
bar to our union — that is now removed ; and whom 
do you think yourself, that I should yield up my 
pretensions in your favour ? ” 

“Draw then,” said M c Aulay; “we understand 
each other.” 

“ Not now,” said Menteith, “ and not here. Allan, 
you know me well — wait till to-morrow, and you 
shall have fighting enough ” 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 


297 


“ This hour — this instant — or never,” answered 
M‘Aulay. “ Your triumph shall not go farther than 
the hour which is stricken. Menteith, I entreat 
you by our relationship — by our joint conflicts 
and labours — draw your sword, and defend your 
life ! ” As he spoke, he seized the Earl’s hand, and 
wrung it with such frantic earnestness, that his 
grasp forced the blood to start under the nails. 
Menteith threw him off with violence, exclaiming, 
“ Begone, madman ! ” 

“Then, be the vision accomplished!” said Allan; 
and, drawing his dirk, struck with his whole gigan- 
tic force at the Earl’s bosom. The temper of the 
corslet threw the point of the weapon upwards, but 
a deep wound took place between the neck and 
shoulder ; and the force of the blow prostrated the 
bridegroom on the floor. Montrose entered at one 
side of the anteroom. The bridal company, alarmed 
at the noise, were in equal apprehension and sur- 
prise ; but ere Montrose could almost see what had 
happened, Allan M'Aulay had rushed past him, and 
descended the castle stairs like lightning. “Guards, 
shut the gate ! ” exclaimed Montrose — “ Seize him 
— kill him, if he resists ! — He shall die, if he were 
my brother ! ” 

But Allan prostrated, with a second blow of his 
dagger, a sentinel who was upon, duty — traversed 
the camp like a mountain-deer, though pursued by 
all who caught the alarm — threw himself into the 
river, and, swimming to the opposite side, was soon 
lost among the woods. In the course of the same 
evening, his brother Angus and his followers left 
Montrose’s camp, and, taking the road homeward, 
never again rejoined him. 

Of Allan himself it is said, that, in a wonderfully 


298 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


short space after the deed was committed, he burst 
into a room in the Castle of Inverary, where Argyle 
was sitting in council, and flung on the table 
his bloody dirk. 

“ Is it the blood of James Grahame ? ” said Argyle, 
a ghastly expression of hope mixing with the terror 
which the sudden apparition naturally excited. 

“ It is the blood of his minion,” answered M‘Au- 
lay — “It is the blood which I was predestined 
to shed, though I would rather have spilt my 
own.” 

Having thus spoken, he turned and left the castle, 
and from that moment nothing certain is known of 
his fate. As the boy Kenneth, with three of the 
Children of the Mist, were seen soon afterwards 
to cross Lochfine, it is supposed they dogged his 
course, and that he perished by their hand in some 
obscure wilderness. Another opinion maintains, 
that Allan M'Aulay went abroad and died a monk 
of the Carthusian order. But nothing beyond bare 
presumption could ever be brought in support of 
either opinion. 

His vengeance was much less complete than he 
probably fancied ; for Menteith, though so severely 
wounded as to remain long in a dangerous state, 
was, by having adopted Major Dalgetty’s fortunate 
recommendation of a cuirass as a bridal-garment, 
happily secured from the worst consequences of 
the blow. But his services were lost to Montrose ; 
and it was thought best, that he should be conveyed 
with his intended countess, now truly a mourning 
bride, and should accompany his wounded father- 
in-law to the castle of Sir Duncan at Ardenvohr. 
Dalgetty followed them to the water’s edge, remind- 
ing Menteith of the necessity of erecting a sconce 


A LEGEND OE MONTROSE. 299 

on Drumsnab to cover his lady’s newly-acquired 
inheritance. 

They performed their voyage in safety, and Men- 
teith was in a few weeks so well in health, as to be 
united to Annot in the castle of her father. 

The Highlanders were somewhat puzzled to rec- 
oncile Menteith’s recovery with the visions of the 
second sight, and the more experienced Seers were 
displeased with him for not having died. But others 
thought the credit of the vision sufficiently fulfilled, 
by the wound inflicted by the hand, and with the 
weapon, foretold ; and all were of opinion, that the 
incident of the ring, with the death’s head, related 
to the death of the bride’s father, who did not sur- 
vive her marriage many months. The incredulous 
held, that all this was idle dreaming, and that Al- 
lan’s supposed vision was but a consequence of the 
private suggestions of his own passion, which, hav- 
ing long seen in Menteith a rival more beloved 
than himself, struggled with his better nature, and 
impressed upon him, as it were involuntarily, the 
idea of killing his competitor. 

Menteith did not recover sufficiently to join 
Montrose during his brief and glorious career ; and 
when that heroic general disbanded his army and 
retired from Scotland, Menteith resolved to adopt 
the life of privacy, which he led till the Restora- 
tion. After that happy event, he occupied a situa- 
tion in the land befitting his rank, lived long, happy 
alike in public regard and in domestic affection, and 
died at a good old age. 

Our dramatis personas have been so limited, that, 
excepting Montrose, whose exploits and fate are 
the theme of history, we have only to mention Sir 
Dugald Dalgetty. This gentleman continued, with 


300 


TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 


the most rigorous punctuality, to discharge his duty, 
and to receive his pay, until he was made prisoner, 
among others, upon the field of Philliphaugh. He 
was condemned to share the fate of his fellow-offi- 
cers upon that occasion, who were doomed to death 
rather by denunciations from the pulpit, than the 
sentence either of civil or military tribunal ; their 
blood being considered as a sort of sin-offering to 
take away the guilt of the land, and the fate im- 
posed upon the Canaanites, under a special dispen- 
sation, being impiously and cruelly applied to them. 

Several Lowland officers, in the service of the 
Covenanters, interceded for Dalgetty on this occa- 
sion, representing him as a person whose skill 
would be useful in their army, and who would be 
readily induced to change his service. But on this 
point they found Sir Dugald unexpectedly obsti- 
nate. He had engaged with the King for a certain 
term, and, till that was expired, his principles would 
not permit any shadow of changing. The Cove- 
nanters, again, understood no such nice distinction, 
and he was in the utmost danger of falling a mar- 
tyr, not to this or that political principle, but merely 
to his own strict ideas of a military enlistment. 
Fortunately, his friends discovered, by computa- 
tion, that there remained but a fortnight to elapse 
of the engagement he had formed, and to which, 
though certain it was never to be renewed, no power 
on earth could make him false. With some diffi- 
culty they procured a reprieve for this short space, 
after which they found him perfectly willing to come 
under any engagements they chose to dictate. He 
entered the service of the Estates accordingly, and 
wrought himself forward to be Major in Gilbert 
Ker’s corps, commonly called the Kirk’s Own Regi- 


A LEGEND OF MONTROSE. 301 

ment of Horse. Of his farther history we know 
nothing, until we find him in possession of his pa- 
ternal estate of Drumthwacket, which he acquired, 
not by the sword, but by a pacific intermarriage with 
Hannah Strachan, a matron somewhat stricken in 
years, the widow of the Aberdeenshire Covenanter. 

Sir Dugald is supposed to have survived the Revo- 
lution, as traditions of no very distant date repre- 
sent him as cruizing about in that country, very 
old, very deaf, and very full of interminable stories 
about the immortal Gustavus Adolphus, the Lion 
of the North, and the bulwark of the Protestant 
Faith. 


A 























































• 

. 










































































% 















































I 


















% 


I 


t 


4 




APPENDIX. 


No. I. 

The scarcity of my late friend's poem may be an excuse 
for adding the spirited conclusion of Clan Alpin’s vow. 
The Clan Gregor has met in the ancient church of Bal- 
quidder. The head of Drummond-Ernoch is placed on 
the altar, covered for a time with the banner of the 
tribe. The Chief of the tribe advances to the altar: 

“ And pausing, on the banner gazed ; 

Then cried in scorn, his finger raised, 

‘ This was the boon of Scotland’s king ; ’ 

And, with a quick and angry fling, 

Tossing the pageant screen away, 

The dead man’s head before him lay. 

Unmoved he scann’d the visage o’er. 

The clotted locks were dark with gore, 

The features with convulsion grim, 

The eyes contorted, sunk, and dim. 

But unappall’d, in angry mood, 

With lowering brow, unmoved he stood. 

Upon the head his bared right hand 
He laid, the other grasp’d his brand : 

Then kneeling, cried, ‘To Heaven I swear 
This deed of death I own, and share ; 

As truly, fully mine, as though 
This my right hand had dealt the blow: 

Come then, our foemen, one, come all ; 

If to revenge this caitiff’s fall 

One blade is bared, one bow is drawn. 

Mine everlasting peace I pawn, 

To claim from them, or claim from him, 

In retribution, limb for limb. 


304 


APPENDIX. 


In sudden fray, or open strife, 

This steel shall render life for life.’ 

“ He ceased ; and at his beckoning nod, 

The clansmen to the altar trod ; 

And not a whisper breathed around, 

And nought was heard of mortal sound, 

Save from the clanking arms they bore, 

That rattled on the marble floor ; 

And each, as he approach’d in haste, 

Upon the scalp his right hand placed ; 

With livid lip, and gather’d brow, 

Each uttered, in his turn, the vow. 

Fierce Malcolm watch’d the passing scene, 
And search’d them through with glances keen ; 
Then dash’d a tear-drop from his eye ; 

Unbid it came — he knew not why. 

Exulting high, he towering stood : 

‘ Kinsmen,’ he cried, ‘ of Alpin’s blood, 

And worthy of Clan Alpin’s name, 

Unstain’d by cowardice and shame, 

E’en do, spare nocht, in time of ill 
Shall be Clan Alpin’s legend still ! ’ ” 


No. II. 

It has been disputed whether the Children of the Mist 
were actual MacGregors, or whether they were not out- 
laws named MacDonald, belonging to Ardnamurchan. 
The following act of the Privy Council seems to decide 
the question : — • 

“Edinburgh, 4th February, 1589. 

“ The same day, the Lords of Secret Council being crediblie 
informed of ye cruel and mischeivous proceeding of ye wicked 
Clangrigor, so lang continueing in blood, slaughters, herships, 
manifest reifts, and stouths committed upon his Hieness’ peace- 
able and good subjects ; inhabiting ye countries ewest ye brays 
of ye Highlands, thir money years bygone ; but specially heir 
after ye cruel murder of umqll Jo. Drummond of Drummon- 
eyryuch, his Majesties proper tennant, and ane of his fosters 
of Glenartney, committed upon ye day of last 


APPENDIX. 


305 


bypast, be certain of ye said clan, be ye council and determi- 
nation of ye haill, avow and to defend ye authors yrof qoever 
wald persew for revenge of ye same, qll ye said Jo. was occu- 
pied in seeking of venison to his Hieness, at command of Pat. 
Lord Drummond, stewart of Stratharne, and principal for- 
rester of Glenartney; the Queen, his Majesties dearest spouse, 
being yn shortlie looked for to arrive in this realm. Likeas, 
after ye murder committed, ye authors yrof cutted off ye said 
umqll Jo. Drummond’s head, and carried the same to the 
Laird of M‘Grigor, who, and the haill surname of M‘Gri- 
gors, purposely conveined upon the Sunday yrafter, at the 
Kirk of Buchquhidder ; qr they caused ye said umqll John’s 
head to be pnted to ym, and yr avowing ye sd murder to 
have been committed by yr communion, council, and determi- 
nation, laid yr hands upon the pow, and in eithnik, and barbar- 
ous manner, swear to defend ye authors of ye sd murder, in 
maist proud contempt of our sovrn Lord and his authoritie, 
and in evil example to others wicked limmaris to do ye like, 
give ys sail be suffered to remain unpunished.” 

Then follows a commission to the Earls of Huntly, 
Argyle, Athole, Montrose, Pat. Lord Drummond, Ja. 
Commendator of Incheffray, And. Campbel of Lochin- 
nel, Duncan Campbel of Ardkinglas, Lauchlane M ‘In- 
tosh of Dunnauchtane, Sir Jo. Murrya of Tullibarden, 
knt., Geo. Buchanan of that Ilk, and And. M‘Farlane 
of Ariquocher, to search for and apprehend Alaster 
M‘Grigor of Glenstre, (and a number of others nom- 
inatim,) “ and all others of the said Clangrigor, or ye 
ass i stars, culpable of the said odious murther, or of 
thift, reset of thift, herships, and sornings, qrever they 
may be apprehended. And if they refuse to be taken, 
or flees to strengths and houses, to pursue and assege 
them with fire and sword; and this commission to 
endure for the space of three years.” 

Such was the system of police in 1589 ; and such 
the state of Scotland nearly thirty years after the 
Reformation. 


20 

















































































































































AUTHOR’S NOTES. 


Note I., p. 137. — Fides et fiducia sunt relativa. 

The military men of the times agreed upon dependencies of 
honour, as they called them, with all the metaphysical argu- 
mentation of civilians, or school divines. 

The English officer, to whom Sir James Turner was prisoner 
after the rout at Uttoxeter, demanded his parole of honour not 
to go beyond the walls of Hull without liberty. “ He brought 
me the message himself, — I told him I was ready to do so, 
provided he removed his guards from me, for fides et fiducia 
sunt relativa; and, if he took my word for my fidelity, he was 
obliged to trust it, otherwise, it was needless for him to seek it, 
and ill vain for me to give it ; and therefore I beseeched him 
either to give trust to my word, which I would not break, or his 
own guards, who I supposed would not deceive him. In this 
manner I dealt with him, because I knew him to be a scho- 
lar.” — Turner's Memoirs , p. 80. The English officer allowed 
the strength of the reasoning ; but that concise reasoner, Crom- 
well, soon put an end to the dilemma : “Sir James Turner 
must give his parole, or be laid in irons.” 

% 

Note II., p. 227. Wraiths. 

A species of apparition, similar to what the Germans call a 
Double-Ganger, was believed in by the Celtic tribes, and is 
still considered as an emblem of misfortune or death. Mr. 
Kirke, (See Note to Rob Roy, Yol. II. p. 347,) the minister 
of Aberfoil, who will no doubt be able to tell us more of the 
matter should he ever comeback from Fairy -land, gives us the 
following ; — 

“ Some men of that exalted sight, either by art or nature, 
have told me they have seen at these meetings a double man, 
or the shape of some man in two places, that 'is, a superterra- 


3°8 


AUTHOR’S NOTES. 


nean and a subterranean inhabitant perfectly resembling one 
another in all points, whom he, notwithstanding, could easily 
distinguish one from another by some secret tokens and opera- 
tions, and so go speak to the man his neighbour and familiar, 
passing by the apparition or resemblance of him. They avouch 
that every element and different state of being have animals 
resembling those of another element, as there be fishes at sea 
resembling Monks of late order in all their hoods and dresses, 
so as the Roman invention of good and bad daemons and 
guardian angels particularly assigned, is called by them ane 
ignorant mistake, springing only from this originall. They 
call this reflex man a Co-Walker, every way like the man, as a 
twin-brother and companion haunting him as his shadow, as 
is that seen and known among men resembling the originall, 
both before and after the originall is dead, and was also often 
seen of old to enter a hous, by which the people knew that the 
person of that liknes w T as to visit them within a few days. This 
copy, echo, or living picture, goes at last to his own herd. It 
accompanied that person so long and frequently for ends best 
known to its selve, whether to guard him from the secret assaults 
of some of its own folks, or only as an sportfull ape to coun- 
terfeit all his actions.” — Kirke’s Secret Commonwealth, , p. 3. 

The two following apparitions, resembling the vision of Al- 
lan M‘Aulay in the text, occur in Theophilus Insulanus, (Rev. 
Mr. Fraser’s Treatise on the Second Sight, Relations x. and 
xvii.). 

“ Barbara Macpherson, relict of the deceased Mr. Alexander 
MacLeod, late minister of St. Kilda, informed me the natives 
of that island had a particular kind of second sight, which is 
always a forerunner of their approaching end. Some months 
before they sicken, they are haunted with an apparition, resem- 
bling themselves in all respects as to their person, features, or 
clothing. This image, seemingly animated, walks with them 
in the field in broad daylight ; and if they are employed in delv- 
ing, harrowing, seed-sowing, or any other occupation, they are 
at the same time mimicked by this ghostly visitant. My in- 
former added farther, that having visited a sick person of the 
inhabitants, she had the curiosity to enquire of him, if at any 
time he had seen any resemblance of himself as above described"; 
he answered in the affirmative, and told her, that to make far- 
ther trial, as he was going out of his house of a morning, he put 
on straw-rope garters instead of those he formerly used, and 


AUTHOR’S NOTES. 


309 


having gone to the fields, his other self appeared in such gar- 
ters. The conclusion was, the sick man died of that ailment, 
and she no longer questioned the truth of those remarkable 
presages.” 

“ Margaret MacLeod, an honest woman advanced in years, 
informed me, that when she was a young woman in the family 
of Grishornish, a dairy-maid, who daily used to herd the 
calves in a park close to the house, observed, at different times, 
a woman resembling herself in shape and attire, walking soli- 
tarily at no great distance from her, and being surprised at the 
apparition, to make further trial, she put the back part of her 
upper garment foremost, and anon the phantom was dressed in 
the same manner, which made her uneasy, believing it portended 
some fatal consequence to herself. In a short time thereafter 
she was seized with a fever, which brought her to her end, and 
before her sickness and on her deathbed, declared the second 
sight to several.” 


r 






































































































t . 




















































EDITOR’S NOTES. 


(а) p. 28. “These valiant Irishes being all put to the 
sword, as is usual in such cases.” The “ Irishes ” indeed ap- 
pear to have received little quarter. After Philiphaugh they 
and their women were butchered by the desire of the Pres- 
byterian ministers. “ Then,” says Bishop Guthrie, “ did the 
churchmen quarrel that quarters should be given to such 
wretches as they, and declared it to be an act of most sinful 
impiety to spare them.” They were certainly wretches : 
witness the sack of Aberdeen. Yet Stewart had promised 
them quarter, and on that promise they had laid down their 
weapons. 

(б) p. 32. Meston, Professor, a Jacobite poet. His works 
were published in Edinburgh in 1767, sixth edition. 

(c) p. 64. “ Do you talk of the second sight, or Deutero- 

scopia ? ” It is not easy for a Lowlander to know how far 
the second sight, or at least the belief in it, still exists in the 
Highlands and Western Isles. The English-speaking visitor 
occasionally gets a glimpse into the secret superstitions of the 
Celt, but, as a rule, the Highlander is reserved on this topic. 
In the changes of the world, he has wholly ceased to be feudal, 
and has, indeed, become socialistic. But to his ancient faiths 
the Editor believes that he is still true, and that the enlight- 
ened Radical in politics may be as much afraid to walk on a 
midnight road as any of his ancestors. Thus the mail-cart 
from Inveraray to the head of Loch Awe was recently impeded 
by a spectre, which frightened away two drivers in succession; 
so, at least, the Editor was informed by a competent Gaelic 
authority. About 1886, when fishing on the Beauly, the 


312 


EDITOR’S NOTES. 


Editor had the assistance of an old Gael named Campbell. 
Though his name was Campbell, he professed his personal 
attachment to the cause of the Great Marquis. He informed 
the Editor of several cases of second sight. One of the seers 
was this old man’s own sister. It is highly probable that the 
second sight still prevails, as it is certain that numerous other 
superstitions, such as the dread of being left in company with 
a corpse, are vivacious enough. 

There is nothing peculiarly Celtic in this belief. “Pre- 
monitions ” are of frequent occurrence even among the better- 
educated classes, as we may read in the publications of the 
Psychical Society. Thus a gentleman of well-known genius 
was once visiting the new house of a friend. In the bedroom 
he was observed to turn pale, and informed one of his f com- 
panions in private that he had seen their host lying dead 
on the bed. The death of the owner of the house followed 
in about a month. This anecdote, which is given at first 
hand, may naturally be set down to the force of a warm im- 
agination. But in the Highland community of Montrose’s 
day, and later, the incident would have been regarded as a 
clear example of the second sight. It corresponds to the 
case of the Marquis of Argyll (Gillespie Grumach, Dugald 
Dalgetty’s Marquis), who was playing at bowls in 1660. 
One of the gentlemen present “fell pale, and said to them 
about him, ‘blesse me, what is that I see, my lord with his 
head off, and all his shoulders full of blood.’ ” He was 
executed not long after. 1 In short, second sight is now called 
“Telepathy,” but the facts, or fancies, are just as common 
as ever they were. The numerous examples in Graham 
Dalyell’s “Darker Superstitions of the Highlands” are 
partly taken from trials for witchcraft. They are precisely 
the kind of hallucinations which the Psychical Society now 
collects and investigates. It appears that the vision could 
occasionally be transmitted by contact. A person who placed 
his foot on the foot of the seer could behold what the seer 
beheld. 2 The gift was often hereditary in the Highlands. 8 
It was also communicated by magical ceremonies — a hair rope 
that had bound a corpse to the bier was tied round the body 

1 Wodrow, “ Analecta,” i. p. 115. 

2 “Lilly, History of his Life and Times,” quoted by Graham 
Dalyell, p. 469. Aubrey, “ Miscellanies,” pp. 154, 158, 173, 174. 

8 Kirk’s “Secret Commonwealth,” p. 16. 


EDITOR’S NOTES. 


3 T 3 


of the neophyte. For an ancient parallel we have the Hom- 
eric case of Theoclymenus of the house of Melampus, the 
seer in the Odyssey. Theoclymenus, being hereditarily gifted, 
knew by a vision of a shroud about their bodies that the 
wooers were “fey.” Isobel Sinclair, tried for witchcraft in 
1633, knew “giff there be any fey bodie in the house.” 
Among the Eskimo, the Angakut, or Seers, acquire their power 
by fasts and retreats into the wilderness. The Red Indians 
use similar measures, and in John Tanner’s Narrative we 
see a white captive adopting their superstitions, and himself 
becoming second-sighted. In severe cases the visionary 
“shrieked, trembled, and perspired under the impression.” 
They occasionally applied for the prayers of the Presbytery, 
disliking a power so dangerous and painful. 1 The clergy 
themselves were often second-sighted, as Mr. John Cameron 
of Lochside, in Cantyre, who beheld the rout of Both well 
Bridge. 2 3 

’ The anecdote given by Dugald Dalgetty of Murdoch 
Mackenzie, an Assynt seer, is taken by Scott from Monro’s 
“ Expedition with Mackay’s Regiment,” i. 75. In the Isle of 
Man the vision could be imparted to one who touched the 
foot of the seer. 8 A well-known classical example is that of 
Apollonius of Tyana, who beheld in Ephesus the murder of 
Domitian in Rome. (Dio Cassius, lib. Ixvii.) The natural 
conclusion, on the whole, is that second sight is no isolated 
phenomenon or superstition, but merely a local name for 
experiences familiar, at least by report, in all countries and 
ages. Plotinus was second-sighted, as Porphyry shows. So 
was Njal, the hero of the Njal’s Saga. Dr. Johnson says: “ I 
never could, advance my curiosity to conviction, but came 
away at last only willing to believe.” 4 The existence of 
hallucinations is matter of fact; it is also certain that some 
“sensitives,” or seers or second-sighted men, are peculiarly 
haunted by these experiences. But the proportion of veridical 
to void and casual hallucinations has never been ascertained, 
and the law which determines the proportion has of course 

1 Aubrey, “Miscellanies,” pp. 155, 165. 

2 Wodrow, “Analecta,” i. 85. 

3 Higden, “ Polychronicon,” by Trevis, i. 61, c. lxiv., quoted 
by Dalyell. See Sacheverell, “Account of the Isle of Man,” pp. 
14, 17. 

4 Works, ix. 107. 


314 


EDITOR’S NOTES. 


not been discovered. It may be affirmed, however, that 
enlightenment and education in no way affect the ratio of 
hallucinations : they only affect the esteem in which they are 
held. 

(d) p. 86. “ The Trot of Turiff.” “ The Gordons had 
risen, without waiting for their young chief, had scattered the 
Covenanting garrison in a skirmish popularly known as The 
Trot of Turiff (which marks the virtual beginning of the 
Civil War), and had reoccupied Aberdeen.” (Mowbray Mor- 
ris, “ Montrose,” p. 69.) Montrose was still, at this time, in 
the ranks of the Covenant. 

(e) p. 106. “Though he [Gustavus] cannot pledge in my 
cup, yet we share our loaf between us.” The horses of Hec- 
tor in the Iliad shared his wheat and wine: hence commenta- 
tors have urged that the passage containing the assertion is 
spurious. 

(/) p. 127. “Stephen Bathian.” Stephen Batory, voie- 
vode of Transylvania, 1573-1586. 

(g) p. 141. “Inverary Castle.” The present house was 
built by Archibald, third Duke of Argyll. Johnson described 
him as “ a narrow man.” “ I wondered at this,” says Boswell, 
“ and observed that his building so great a house at Inverary 
was not like a narrow man.” “Sir,” said he, “when a narrow 
man has resolved to build a house, he builds it like another 
man.” The ancient castle was nearer than the present house 
to the junction of the little river Aray with the sea. 

( h ) p. 168. “Bethlem Gabor.” A Transylvanian adven- 
turer, who, aided by a Turkish contingent, seized, and for some 
time held, the crown of Hungary. 

( i ) p. 188. “Bows and arrows.” In spite of Dalgetty’s 
astonishment, bows and arrows were served out to six hundred 
undergraduate volunteers of Oxford, on the King’s side, in the 
Civil War. These weapons were used as late as the battle 
of Leipzig, in European warfare, and General Marbot was 
wounded in the thigh by a Bashkir arrow, on that field. 
Thus “the sight was seen in civilised war ” more than a cen- 
tury and a half after the Highland bows moved the mirth of 
the Rittmeister. 

( k ) p. 204. “ He had scarcely time to repose his small 

army in Aberdeen.” Unluckily he had time to sack the town. 
“ On this solitary occasion he outdid the worst brutalities of 
the German wars.” Argyll now set a reward of £ 20,000 on 


EDITOR’S NOTES. 


315 


the head of Montrose. (Mowbray Morris, “ Montrose,” 
p. 147.) “ The unarmed citizens were butchered like sheep in 

the streets. The better sort were stripped before death, that 
their clothes might not be soiled with their blood ; women 
and little children were slaughtered for bewailing their dead, 
and those women were happiest who expiated their tears with 
life.” These were the deeds of Dalgetty’s “loyal Irishes” 
within five miles of Drumthwacket. 


Andrew Lang. 











GLOSSARY. 


A\ all. 

Abuilziements, habiliments, ac- 
coutrements. 

Ain, own. 

Airn, iron. 

Allenarly, solely. 

Amang, among. 

An, if, although. 

Andrea Ferrara, the Highland 
broadsword. 

Ane, one. 

Asteer, astir. 

Atween, between. 

Auld, old. 

Awa’, away. 

Bairn, a child. 

Bang, to drive with force. 
Bannock, a sort of cake. 

Batoon, a baton. 

Beal, a narrow pass. 

Bicker, a wooden bowl. 

Bide, to wait, to remain. 

Blude, bluid, blood. 

Bonny, pretty. 

Book-lear, book-learning. 

Bray, a hill. 

“ By ordinar,” out of the com- 
mon. 

Canny, quiet, prudent. 

Cantrip, a freak. 

Cateran, a Highland robber. 
Cautelous, cautious. 

Certes ! good gracious ! 

Chield, a fellow. 


“ Clewed up,” fastened up. 
Corrie, a hollow in a hill. 
Cullion, a mean wretch. 

Curch, a head-covering. 

Daft, crazy. 

Deil, the devil. 

Dooms, very. 

Een, eyes. 

E’enow, just now. 

Eft, a newt, a lizard. 

Eneuch, eneugh, enough. 
Ewest, adjacent. 

Farl, a fourth part. 

Fary, very. 

Fat, what. 

Flow-moss, a morass. 

Forby, besides. 

Forfoughen, breathless, ex- 
hausted. 

Frae, from. 

Gae, go ; also, gave. 

Gang, to go. 

Gar, to make, to oblige. 

Gill, a small rugged glen. 

Gillie, a Highland attendant, or 
footboy. 

Girnell-kist, a meal-chest. 
Glunzie-man, a rough Highland 
boor. 

Graith, furniture, harness. 
Grice, a sucking-pig. 

Gude, good. 


3 i8 


GLOSSARY. 


Ha’, hall. 

Habergeon, armour reaching 
from the neck to the waist. 
Hae, have. 

Hale, haill, whole. 

Hame, home. 

Hauden, held. 

“ Head of the sow to the tail of 
the grice,” to take the good 
with the bad. 

“ Heads and thraws,” lying side 
by side, the feet of the one by 
the head of the other. 

Her, his, or him; also, your.* 
Herry, to harry. 

Hership, booty, the act of plun- 
dering. 

Heys, dancing steps. 

Hunder, a hundred. 

Hurchin, a hedgehog. 
Hurley-house, a large house 
nearly ruinous. 

Ingan, an onion. 

Intromit, to intermeddle with. 
Ivy-tod, an ivy-bush. 

Justified, executed. 

Ken, to know. 

Kend, known. 

Land-laufer, an adventurer, a 
vagabond. 

Limmars, thieves. 

Loon, a fellow, a rascal. 

Lug, the ear. 

Mains, demesne. 

Mair, more. 

“ Mair by token,” besides, es- 
pecially. 

Manna, must not. 

Merk, a coin equal to 13|d. 
Mickle, muckle, much. 

Misken, not to know. 

Na, nae, no, not. 

Ony, any. 

Or, before. 

Outby, out of doors. 


I Fartan, a crab. 

Peel, pele, a place of strength, a 
tower. 

Peloton, platoon. 

Feremptorie, to the point. 

Fit, to put. 

Pock-puddings, an opprobrious 
epithet applied to Englishmen. 
Fow, the head. 

Frovant, victuals. 

Putten, put. 

Queich, a drinking-cup. 

Reek, smoke. 

Reift, robbery. 

Reiver, a robber. 

Reset, the harbouring of stolen 
goods. 

Rizzer’d, half-salted and half- 
dried. 

Sae, so. 

Sain, to bless. 

Sail, shall. 

Sair, sore. 

Salvage, a savage. 

Sassenach, applied to Lowland- 
ers and the English. 

Saul, the soul. 

Scaith, harm. 

Seart, a cormorant. 

Scomfish, to suffocate. 

Scraugh, screech. 

Sett, a pattern. 

Shank, a leg. 

She, he ; also, you or I. 

Shelty, a very small horse. 
Shieling, a Highland hut. 

Shoon, shoes. 

Sic, siccan, such. 

Sidier, a soldier. 

Siller, money. 

Skaith,* harm. 

Skirlin’, screaming. 

Skreigh, a screech. 

Soming, the act of exacting 
lodgings, &c. 

Sorted, accommodated. 

Stell, to plant cannon. 

Stouth, theft. 

Swear, loth, reluctant. 




GLOSSARY. 


3i9 


Ta, the. 

“ Tappit hen,” a large liquid 
measure. 

Tass, a glass, a cup. 

Tasset, a thigh-piece. 

Teagues, undisciplined Irish- 
men. 

Teil, the devil. 

Tent, to observe, to probe : also, 
attention, care. 

Thir, these, those. 

Tiernach, the chief, the laird or 
squire. 

Tod, a bush ; also, a fox. 
Trewsman, a clansman. 

Trow, to trust, to feel sure. 
Tuck, a beat (of drum). 

Tuilzie, a scuffle, a skirmish. 
Tup, a ram. 

Twa, two. 

Umqll, the late. 

Uncanny, dangerous ; in league 
with the evil one. 

Unce, an ounce. 

Unco, very, uncommon, strange. 


Untenty, inattentive, awkward. 
Usquebae, whisky. 

Vilipend, to slight. 

Vivers, victuals. 

Wad, a pledge; also, would. 
Wame, the womb, the belly. 
Warrandice, warranty. 

Warse, worse. 

Warst, w r orst. 

Waur, worse. 

Weasand, the windpipe. 

Wee, little. 

Weel, well. 

Weird, destiny. 

Weize, to direct, to aim. 
Wheeh, a few. 

Whilk, which. 

Wi’, with. 

Winna, will not. 

Wud, mad. 

Yestreen, last night. 

Yett, a gate. 


THE END. 






* + 0 * 
” *^ 0 ** . 


^ #■' -m-;' *&m#s JP 

^ *'«'’• * . ^ * • « ° ° a 0 ^ * * * 1 ‘ 

°, v » S VL/., AU .< ) v ,« •«. V- 

* A * ^ <V * * x* A * *^^' 1 * 


. 




%-& 


® -S 'f'r. o 


4 *b ^ o 

* -ay <£* • 




v/\v A 


vPC, 


♦ & % • 


• * * A 


V r V • * * 

A* C 0 " ° * 

<A •Is^vt' ^ c 

N v ^f^SXW n^ * ^ v 


• *° <? . O 4 mf| 0 r. ' r ^& '° v 

it. *MS|gX» i. 0-7 ^ v^gHy' ’■^K'. t * 0- v • 

% ^ 0 ° ^ %. '♦•••** f 0 ° % **^’ 
' O 0^ * t • o + </ ^ s # • *£v (JV- ^ < * o^ ^ 

* *£,k A*^" *>*<^35% ..-V a. A ► ^ ^ • 



* V ,<? 



C* ^ A * 

O 


vf* 9 <D * *A 

• aV^ : 

^ A ^ *4°%* (F 

\ y ^ A * • * 5 < v 

4 ^ C, 0 H ° + fj • ^ 1 * >9 A V $ 

n v ^snvAh^^ Tx ^ * Jpnf//y> 2 > * a^ * 


• "W 


*& o 


%. \ _ 

%> ‘^~’’’ A 



.° * w . 

°,^ - « «° ° a°° "%. *•?’ 

* o. . 0 r f y • » # v 

» ^ A V .V^/i,*» ,i 



^ <C^ ^ v' ^ ^ <l v 

^V ^ 4 g^ 

, ^ -o ^ (-O' , 

vP k V ^ g^fff//^p t rS\W\T\^ a% r/ . v» T 

- ^im?*s\ ^ 0 v : 

\;W*;/’ * v?^y >0 X;-^ \/’ V- • • • 

o* \> 4 sV^- 4 <y . y * o, ^ A s 8 *^' ~ 


o 







> S * 

t / « ^ 

( i . • ^ CJ 





♦* ^ V \ '. 

‘‘V 0 o»«. V^' 1 ’ ^ .„., > ( 


(Jy v r o « o 


oi^ . • 1 '.* -i 




> + .0’ v 

* - C ♦ 





v' cv 

« C$*« o * aV**» 



o 

* <£ '*'&. \ 

* -■<£? <p- * 

► • 5 ' s, 

0^ t • u ' B * ^o .A & 

C ° .<T < # 

:im££+ *b ^ : 

o \0 vV 

o^ * o M o .o *$>. * • ' 1 

’ * r> cf * * * o* ^ 

>v V a /* # 

■V ,# 'MA‘« 

/ ^ ^ . 

* /\ 



• A 



O 

^ v - 

* AX*' - X 

* ■'**••**& <x */?;«♦ a 

v ♦ - - <? O .A g°JL?* (J r 4 ,* t/ ® 

1/1 ^ rtf ^Q <$> oaS^R''’ ^ rtf * 




v° 5-° ■%. . 

•* / \ 

* <0 V * * * *> 


o U 0 


V*-’* V 

•°- V v * 

° c? ° 

S Y ^rU °* 

r*''\<P ^ **° • * * a *'Tv** <g v v 

,A l / • „ ^ A V & ° N 0 * C& • 1 ' • * A % . 0 « o , 

c° ° A* /^StrC- ^ c ♦Vaj^.% ° -4* < 




• ^ 




O V 

\0 v*. * 

* r, 4, ^ *^W£r* „y C- % 

O . * o M o 0 A 0 P ® , i * ^ * • « 0 

/ N . V c • « » Vv 

V ^ * A^'-V <’ 

• ’f’n f'b » 





A V *a - 

' * /V v\ o 

4 A V ^ ^ 

- A <> 


• * 8 * 

V * »- ' • 
/•0 






